


Summer's End

by I_write_fanfiction_not_tragedies (Jas_mint)



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Hyrule Warriors, The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword
Genre: Abandonment, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe - Cyberpunk, Alternate Universe - Dark, Blindness, Blood and Injury, Canon Compliant, Canon Divergence, Chronic Pain, College AU, Drug Use, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Manipulation, Enemies to Lovers, Fluff, Grief/Mourning, Gun Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, M/M, Modern AU, Modern Fantasy, Natural Disasters, Panic Attacks, Post-Game(s), Restraints, Roleswap, Selectively Mute Link (Legend of Zelda), Sexual Content, Smut, Sword Spirit Link, Whumptober 2020, gee Link how come Hylia lets you have two swords, master/sword au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:07:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 32
Words: 45,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26235385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jas_mint/pseuds/I_write_fanfiction_not_tragedies
Summary: A collection of ghiralink one shots (and several multi-shot continuations) loosely based off the Whumptober 2020 prompt list.First chapter is an Index with more detailed summaries, author's notes include prompts and any additional warnings. Chapters with explicit sexual content marked 18+ in the title (i.e. if you're only looking for smut it's easy to find) but this doesn't mean unmarked chapters are sfw**Note: I'm not sure how to explain/tag this so I'll just say Link and Ghirahim do like each other, the bad things are happening to both of them (not just Ghirahim hurting Link), there's no dub con and it's not one-sided.**
Relationships: Ghirahim/Link (Legend of Zelda), Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 88
Kudos: 57





	1. Index

**Author's Note:**

> The way the prompts are set up are with an overarching theme in the form of a sentence or a few words (Let's Hang Out Sometime, My Way or the Highway) and then a few words as ideas to narrow that down. I'm using the main prompt as the chapter title, and choosing from the sub prompts one or two things to focus on. You can see the whole list on [Tumblr](https://whumptober2020.tumblr.com/post/628055505485561856/whumptober-2020-updated).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Index added December 6th, 2020, but the last chapter was posted October 31st. Sorry for any confusion but AO3 does not allow time travel.

1\. [Let's Hang Out Sometime](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26235385/chapters/63855349)

Trapped in Eldin Volcano, Link runs into the last person he wants to see. Canon setting.

2\. [In the Hands of the Enemy](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26235385/chapters/64720858#workskin)

With a gun forced into his hands, Link has to make an impossible decision. Modern AU.

3\. [My Way or the Highway](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26235385/chapters/65219878#workskin)

Link fights Ghirahim again. It was just a thing they did. Modern AU.

4\. [Running Out of Time](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26235385/chapters/65335987#workskin)

The volcano is erupting again, and Link can't escape. Day 1 continued. 

5\. [Where Do You Think You're Going?](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26235385/chapters/65390665#workskin)

Having lost to Demise and Ghirahim, Link has a chance to escape. NOT s-verse post game AU.

6\. [Please...](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26235385/chapters/65452477#workskin)

In order to prove his loyalty to his new master, Link takes Ghirahim's advice and becomes Demise's sword spirit. Downfall AU, again, not s-verse.

7\. [I've Got You](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26235385/chapters/65485339#workskin)

Link shows up on Ghirahim's doorstep, bleeding and begging for help. College AU, 18+

8\. [Where Did Everybody Go?](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26235385/chapters/65551846#workskin)

Ghirahim reflects on a promise unfulfilled. Post Game.

9\. [For the Greater Good](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26235385/chapters/65597806#workskin)

Link sacrifices himself to save Zelda. This would be heroic, if only he were actually the hero and not the goddess reborn. Roleswap AU, 18+

10\. [They Look So Pretty When They Bleed](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26235385/chapters/65649040#workskin)

Link meets Ghirahim for the first time. It goes... unexpectedly. Canon setting, 18+

11\. [ Psych 101](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26235385/chapters/65728603#workskin)

_The truth of it is you were late_. Canon setting.

12\. [I Think I've Broken Something](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26235385/chapters/65778901#workskin)

Ghirahim breaks Link's trust. Post game master/sword AU.

13\. [Breathe In, Breathe Out](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26235385/chapters/65830435#workskin)

Three days after he dropped himself on his doorstep, Ghirahim is starting to get used to having Link in his life. Continuation of College AU, 18+ 

14\. [Is Something Burning?](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26235385/chapters/65887528#workskin)

The mark he bears for the goddesses is no different than the scars Ghirahim carries. Canon setting. 

15\. [Into the Unknown](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26235385/chapters/65953783#workskin)

There is no cure for those chosen by the gods, so he might as well take a risk for once in his life. He was expecting the Master Sword, though. Modern Fantasy. 

16\. [A Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26235385/chapters/65996395#workskin)

Hylia tests Link's loyalty in a Silent Realm. Canon setting. 

17\. [I Did Not See That Coming](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26235385/chapters/66028783#workskin)

Link's having trouble with Cia. Ghirahim offers to help. Continuation of Day 13, Continuation of College AU.

18\. [Panic! at the Disco](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26235385/chapters/66101533#workskin)

Ghirahim is still getting used to his new master. Post game master/sword AU.

19\. [Broken Hearts](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26235385/chapters/66149248#workskin)

Winter on the surface reminded Link of him. Post game canon compliant. 

20\. [Toto, I Have a Feeling We're Not in Kansas Anymore](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26235385/chapters/66208832#workskin)

Link gets hurt. Guess who finds him! Just his _fucking_ luck. Canon setting. 

21\. [I Don't Feel So Well](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26235385/chapters/66226919#workskin)

Link worries his injuries won't get better. Post game master/sword AU.

22\. [Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26235385/chapters/66226961#workskin)

In a last chance effort to be himself before HYLIA turns him into the soldier they need, Link seeks out his enemy and learns things are more complicated than he could imagine. Cyberpunk/Future Fantasy AU, 18+

23\. [What's A Whumpee Gotta Do To Get Some Sleep Around Here?"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26235385/chapters/66321901#workskin)

"Ghirahim, I haven't slept more than five hours in the past three days. I am **not** in the mood for this." Canon setting.

24\. [You're Not Making Any Sense](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26235385/chapters/66362887#workskin)

Well, he fucked up. Basically the Eldin Volcano of a Modern AU.

25\. [I Think I'll Just Collapse Right Here, Thanks](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26235385/chapters/66396871#workskin)

He failed. He's dying. He's being over dramatic, its not that bad. Roleswap AU, extra Graphic Violence.

26\. [If You Thought the Head Trauma Was Bad...](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26235385/chapters/66440695#workskin)

Ghirahim is Link's friend, but Hylia made him to be a weapon. Roleswap AU.

27\. [Okay, Who Had Natural Disasters on Their 2020 Bingo Card?](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26235385/chapters/66472228#workskin)

Stuck in a snowstorm... the power's out... oh no... whatever can we do.... Modern AU, (kind of a post College AU), 18+

28\. [ Such Wow. Many Normal. Very Oops.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26235385/chapters/66531784#workskin)

Ghirahim and Fi act like cats. That's it that's the chapter. Post Game Two Swords AU.

29\. [I Think I Need A Doctor](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26235385/chapters/66591901#workskin)

Ghirahim gets revenge. Final part of the College AU, 18+

30\. [Now Where Did That Come From?](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26235385/chapters/66641008#workskin)

Ghirahim hurts Link and Link hides the injury. Post Game master/sword AU.

31\. [ Today's Special: Torture ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26235385/chapters/66642004#workskin)

Why the fuck does Link have a whip. Seriously, why? This is just PWP. Post game master/sword AU, 18+


	2. Let's Hang Out Sometime

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Waking Up Restrained | Shackled | Hanging
> 
> Canon setting

Link was roused from sleep by the sounds of shouting and clanking metal. He wasn't sure why, Skyloft was a quiet place. Maybe Pipit was breaking up another fight between his classmates. It was way to early in the morning for that, couldn't they wait at least until the sun had risen? He blinked open his eyes to his dark room—

This wasn't his room.

This wasn't even Skyloft.

With a shout, Link's consciousness came back to him. He had been flying towards Eldin when the sky had turned black and filled with smoke as thick as tar. He had lost control of his loftwing, disoriented in the dust and ash choking him. He fell... he remembers falling, but not what came after. 

It looked to be dark outside, and though he'd never spent a night on the surface, that was the least of his worries. Locked in a cell, restrained against the far wall, boots barely touching the floor, Link was defenseless. He couldn't feel his pouches hanging off his belt, much less the Goddess Sword on his back. 

This was bad. Very, very, very bad. No tools, no Fi, no range of motion in general. He didn't even know where to start.

And it was about to get a whole lot worse.

Link cursed under his breath at the deranged laughter. Just what he needed. His vision swam with diamonds, the clinking sound of teleportation echoing in the tiny room.

Ghirahim. Great. Just great.

"My, my, look what we have here." The demon leered, tongue flicking out over his teeth. Link glared at him wordlessly, body still jerking to find someway out of the chains holding his arms above his head. 

"Now don't give me that look, it's not my fault you ended up like this." Ghirahim held his hands up in mocking defense, and if Link hadn't been tied down he would have lunged for him and fought with his bare hands, sword or not. He snarled as the shackles rattled.

"Let me go." He demanded, not that he expected it to work. Ghirahim only smiled. 

"Hmm, no. It's a good look on you, dear." He cooed, waltzing forward. The demon gingerly placed his hand on Link's face. "Although, I may be inclined to help if you give me what I want. I never did get around to punishing you for that little stunt you pulled at the Gate of Time, and your insolence in the Fire Sanctuary, but I will give you one more chance. You know what I want, Link."

"And you know I'll never tell you." The knight hissed back, wrenching his head from Ghirahim's palm as his face burned. Ghirahim was too close for comfort, a mistake he didn't want to make again. Memories of their previous encounters filled Link's mind, deepening his blush, while Ghirahim's long tongue flicked out to brush his ear. His head collided with the stone wall rather harshly, leaving Link groaning as in pain as Ghirahim pulled away.

The demon regarded him with a disappointed look. "I thought better of you, Link. You follow her directions so well, are mine not good enough for you?"

At Link's disgusted face he laughed again, hair falling back to show the black marks across his cheek. 

"I really must be going, if you're not going to cooperate. I don't have time for such behavior. Pity, you seemed so eager before." Laughter subsiding to a chuckle, Ghirahim shook his head. "I would love to stay and torment you more, but I'm closer than ever to achieving my goals, something you can't say."

"What, afraid you'll lose in a fight again?" Link snapped, trying to get a rise out of him. He could fight Ghirahim again and win, he knew it, if he could just convince the demon to let him out _and_ give him his sword. He hoped his ego would be enough to keep him from fighting Link any other way.

Ghirahim's smile vanished. "Really, Link, you're getting on my nerves now. I am under no obligation to fight a hero who's already lost."

"So you're too scared to face me, huh?"

Link flinched as a dagger wedged itself into the wall between his arms. 

"I could just kill you now." The other murmured, voice dropping to a low whisper. "Get it over with and find the Gate myself."

His sword appeared in his hand, turning the demon's attention towards it. He ran his hand along the blade.

"A shame it couldn't happen it battle. Though I love the image of you tied up and begging at my feet, I would prefer the end to be more dignified." 

Link panicked. He had been betting on Ghirahim's blood thirst to get him out of this, hoping the demon would be too proud to admit he couldn't defeat him in a fight. 

"No, no, uh, if you kill me now you'll never find the Gate of Time, right? And, besides, who else would stop you? It would get boring quickly, wouldn't it?"

Link saw the corner of Ghirahim's mouth twitch up.

"You really think you're the only one I toy with? I'm sorry to break this to you, but you're not special."

With a deep sigh, Ghirahim vanished the blade, looking back at Link.

"It would get rather dull, wouldn't it? And, to be honest, someone does need to be there to stop my master from breaking free before I'm ready. What am I supposed to do, tell _him_ to stop?" He threw his hands up in frustration. "I mean, how does he expect me to find the Gate if he destroys it first?"

"Yeah, so you should let me go and I'll get on that right now." Link prompted.

"Not so fast, you think I'm just going to release you because you asked nicely?" The demon scoffed, crossing his arms as Link went back to struggling. 

"Ghirahim, let me go! This isn't funny anymore—" He grunted as he pulled on the chain. 

"Well, I'm not the one who put you there. I don't think it would be fair of me to let you go, now would it?"

"Fair?! You're the only one down here, obviously it was you, or under your orders, don't act like you don't know why—"

"I never told my bokoblins to concern themselves with you. Just the girl." Ghirahim interrupted, ignoring Link's struggling. "I can see how they would get you two confused." 

Link huffed at Ghirahim's teasing remark.

"Though, I must say, I _do_ recall telling them something. Oh, what was it?" Ghirahim tapped his chin, scowling as he pretended to think.

"Ah, yes, that's it. To kill on sight." And just like that, they were back to where Link really didn't want to be.

"It's a shame they didn't listen. I suppose I will have to do it myself. What's the point in having minions if they won't do your dirty work for you?"

"I thought you still needed me alive, what about the... the Gate and the... thing in the pit... and..." Link stuttered, frantically kicking his legs as Ghirahim stalked towards him, dagger in his fist aimed at his neck.

"Oh, no! I'm not going to kill you now!" Ghirahim leaned into Link, trapping him, invading what little space he had left. "I'm going to keep you here, break you until you're so miserable you have nothing left to live for, use you for whatever I want..." He threatened, drawing the point up Link's chest until it rested in the dip between his collar bones, "and then, when I have finally gotten rid of everything you hold dear, then I will end your miserable life, given you haven't succumbed to the pain first. I do think I'll miss you, skychild. If only you would join me."

They were close now. So close, Link could feel the cool of the blade on his neck and the warm puff from each breath, their faces so close all he would have to do was tilt his head and he would no longer be able to focus on those painted lips, one strain on his bindings away from colliding with the demon and. . .

"Ghirahim... please..."

The dagger vanished.

Ghirahim snapped away in a flash of diamonds, just outside the bars now. The chains holding Link up fell away, and he dropped crumpled to the floor.

"You're not worth my time. Find a way out yourself, if you can."

Scrambling up, Link made it just in time to see Ghirahim glance his way, looking torn, his parting words,

"I'll see you in battle, Skychild. Don't expect mercy then."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continued on [Day 4:Running Out of Time](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26235385/chapters/65335987).


	3. In the Hands of the Enemy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pick Who Dies | ~~Collars~~ | Kidnapped
> 
> (I'm including the full prompt list, but crossing out which ones I choose not to use)
> 
> Modern Fantasy AU

Link struggled in the hands of his captors, shouting and biting and kicking at anything he could. The blindfold roughly pulled over his eyes didn't help, but he could tell when his foot made contact with whoever was holding him back.

Behind him, he heard a faint click and then cold metal was pressed against the back of his neck.

"If you want to see your friend again, behave."

Link froze. He recognized the deep voice even though he only met its owner several times. Though every bone in his body protested, he obeyed, stumbling forward as he was shoved and led into the unknown.

Everything had gone wrong. This was supposed to be a get in and get out mission, find Zelda and get her to safety, and worry about fighting the villain later. He had been separated from his partner Fi, lost his only way of communicating with his friends, waiting outside to help, carelessly got caught. At least he hadn't run into Ghirahim yet, not that meeting his master was much better.

The blindfold wasn't very good, Link thought, as he was led down twisting hallways with varying light values. In the bright light he could see faint outlines of the people escorting him, counting off two or occasionally three to his front as well as the two holding onto his bound arms. He could take out four easily, but they weren't what he had to worry about. A harsh shove to his back changed his mind.

The light changed as they dragged him into a dark room, and the faceless shapes faded from view. A lock clicked behind them, probably the only escape.

Link was surprised when he felt the ropes cut lose. Before he could fight, he was spun around and shoved ahead, disoriented as he tired to regain his balance.

"Link?!"

The blindfold was ripped from his face, and Link gasped at what he saw. 

"Link!" The blonde girl yelled again, struggling against the ties holding her to a chair. Her resistance was punished by the figure behind her roughly tugging her hair, drawing her neck back as she cried out. Link could see bloodstains on her white dress, dirt and bruises marring her face. Even after everything, she still fought.

Zelda's presence wasn't what surprised him, though. Next to the girl, tied down to a chair of his own and looking entirely disinterested in the situation, was Ghirahim.

Ghirahim, the second in command and most faithful follower of the man he swore to destroy. Ghirahim, the enemy he had encountered time and time again, the mystery keeping him from getting Zelda back. Ghirahim, the mistake he was going to regret for the rest of his life.

"Took you long enough." His nemesis muttered, and was met with a harsh tug to his hair as well. A blade rested against his unmarked neck. 

"Watch it! I'm still your superior!" The man growled, jerking against the ties holding him down. A deep chuckle came from behind Link.

Link said nothing. He stared silently ahead, confused as to what was going on, afraid to make a move.

"You've fought bravely, little hero." Demise mocked him, resting a hand on his shoulder. Link shuddered. "So I'll give you a choice. One or the other, and I'll let you and the survivor leave unscathed."

The gun from earlier was pressed into his hand, and Link absently glanced down at it. It was heavy in his grip.

"One bullet, one shot. The girl or Ghirahim. Isn't this easy?"

Link snapped out of his thoughts.

"You're lying! You'd have me kill your own partner?" He held up the silver metal in his hand, aimed at the monster in front of him. "You won't let us leave if I do this, you need both of them."

His hand shook as it held the gun high, aware of the henchmen in the room tensed and ready to attack. Demise only regarded him with an amused expression, waving off the soldiers ready to defend him. 

"This is your answer? If you choose to try and kill me, both of them die, and you do to."

"A sacrifice I'm willing to make." Link snarled, finger on the trigger. Still, he didn't pull it. 

"And if it doesn't work?"

Link's chest heaved with each breath. He swallowed hard, ready to strike, but it never came. Zelda whimpered from behind him, and his hold on the gun faltered. He couldn't risk her life.

"No! Link, this is your chance, if we die then we die, you can't let it—" Zelda's words were cut off with a muffled cry. They had gagged her.

Link didn't lower the weapon completely, but Demise reached out and pressed it down. Guiding him back to the impossible choice at hand, he sneered at Link's perceived weakness.

"If you won't kill them yourself, I will. But the choice is yours, Link."

Still breathing heavily, Link's focus flitted between Zelda and Ghirahim. He couldn't kill Zelda. He wouldn't even question that. But his attention turned Ghirahim… and he hesitated.

His beautiful enemy watched him with a conceited smile, like he knew Link's mind had already been made up. Though he was the one bound and held hostage, knife still scratching at his neck, Link felt he was the prey caught in the hunter's trap. 

"You won't let me shoot him." He murmured, addressing Demise. The man did not answer. 

"You won't because you need him as much as you need Zelda, as much as you need me dead. It doesn't matter who I choose, you'll stop me and kill me and let him go and keep Zelda. This is empty, isn't it?" He looked to the other, finding an expression that seemed to say 'why don't you find out?'

"Don't underestimate him Link," Ghirahim laughed mirthlessly, his arrogant smirk hiding a growing panic in his eyes. "You don't know him like I do." 

Link bit back his fear again. One bullet, several ways out... he didn't know his chances. He was really missing Fi right now.

Slowly, his arm drifted upwards. He glanced around the room, looking for some distraction to shoot instead, anything to give him time, but it was an empty abyss. Heart pounding, he aimed at his target.

But when he looked into Ghirahim's eyes , he couldn't do it.

* * *

_The night air was brisk as Link crawled back up the mattress to meet the other, gratefully accepting the glass of water. Content as he was pulled into an embrace, he remained quiet, listening to the passing cars and sounds of the city._

_Eventually, sleep called to him, and he could no longer stifle his yawns. Breaking away to lay back against the pillows, he grasped the other's arm, pulling them down with him._

_"Stay. Just for tonight, please," He begged, forehead pressed to his companion's shoulder, "it's only one night."_

_His companion seemed to be in agreement, but then the phone on the nightstand lit up and filled the room with its eerie blue light. The buzzing was difficult to ignore._

_Disappointed as he reached to grab it, Link held onto Ghirahim tighter. He knew this was a bad idea, he knew this could never work out, but he so desperately wanted to find a way._

_His breath caught when the room turned dark again, the phone call denied._

_Maybe... maybe there was a chance. Maybe he could get Ghirahim to change, maybe he could convince him, when he finally won, to just given in. He had never been very persuasive, but right now, nothing mattered more. The traitorous thought was quickly disregarded._

_"We'll get out of this, one way or another." He whispered, holding back the tears that pricked at the corners of his eyes._

_"I doubt it, Link. You know I want to, but it's not that simple."_

_Ghirahim gently rubbed Link's back as the boy burrowed closer, tucking them both under the blanket. His fingers grazed soft skin, fresh scars he was the reason existed, soothing sore muscles and whispering quiet praises._

_"I can only try to make it hurt less."_

* * *

"Time's ticking. Make your decision or they both die."

Panic clouded Link's thoughts. He couldn't kill Zelda, that was not an option. Everything he had done up to this point had been for her. It wasn't a choice, as Demise said, it was easy. Just pull the trigger, get it over with, move on.

His mind supplied him with an unhelpful fantasy of finishing the job, of ending it now and running away with Ghirahim. The others would think he had died too. No one would know he killed her. Who would have believed Demise when he told them?

If only Ghirahim would follow. If only he had more time, to be sure he wasn't throwing away the right future. 

There had been hints. Off hand comments, flashes of fear and loathing and regret when speaking of his choice to follow the other side. There was a chance, if Demise was true to his word (he's not, Link thought, this isn't an option) that Ghirahim would pick him. They'd make it out, and he could forget about all of this.

But _Zelda_.

Who admitted to using him. Who admitted to playing this game to begin with, hiding her true identity her whole life, and ordering her _friends_ about as pawns to die, for what? What were they risking their lives for? Did he even know Zelda anymore? 

Link closed his eyes. One way or another someone would die.

He raised the gun.

"I'm sorry."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr is really making me question putting all of these in one fic... but I'm not going to flood the ghiralink tag with 31 fucking 500 word fics jfc. All these writing advice blogs tell you to write for yourself and do what makes you happy until you do something they don't like :/


	4. My Way or the Highway

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Manhandled | Forced to their Knees | Held at Gunpoint
> 
> Modern Fantasy

It was a just thing they did.

Like getting coffee on Tuesdays. Like stopping to say hello in the grocery store. Like texting each other after the next episode of their favorite show.

"Where's the girl?"

"Not here."

"Oh, how _helpful_ ," Ghirahim sneers, pressing the gun against Link's head with more force. He doesn't flinch anymore. "If I had known that, I wouldn't have gone to the trouble of finding you."

It was getting old, Link thought. They both knew by now they couldn't really hurt the other. They both know Ghirahim will get what he wants, without Link's help, and Link will drop in at the last minute and take it away. Or Link will get what he wants and Ghirahim will pull ahead at the last second, but they won't help each other. Still, they put up a fight, the usual 'I'll never tell' and resulting 'I guess I'll have to _make_ you'. Link opens his mouth to respond, but Ghirahim interrupts first.

"What are you doing next Wednesday?"

He shrugs, which is admittedly tough to do with his hands tied behind his back and on his knees. "Same thing. I have one more Silent Realm and then... I don't know what."

He does know, but Ghirahim doesn't need to. The man behind him pulls the metal away from his head, and there is in pause in which he hums, pondering something.

"My place? I've missed you." He whispers, sinking down for his snake like tongue to gloss over Link's ear. Link tenses, holding back a shudder, but he nods in agreement. "Yeah. I can... I can do that."

"I'm glad." The demon mutters into his neck, a breath away from marking him, anticipation eating away at Link's heart. Suddenly, his hair is wrenched back, and he nearly looses his balance as he yells in surprise. "Let's not forget why we're here!"

And just like that, they're back to where they started. As much as he wants it, all the struggling and kidnaping and rendering him defenseless is not for his sake, not because Ghirahim needs or wants him. He's working for some higher cause, some nameless ancient evil he's sold his soul to, and Link's friend turned goddess is all that matters. To both of them.

"I do so love your screams." His enemy coos, shoving him forward until he does lose balance, face connecting with the floor. "And I have promised so many times to create them, but I'm short on time today. Let's get this over with."

A snap, and Link is scrambling out of the ropes and backing himself into the wall. His face hurts where it connected with the floor, his shoulder is aching from when Ghirahim caught him, and most of all his venomous voice is still ringing in his ear. Link takes a moment to catch his breath.

"Well? Are you fighting or not?"

Attention back on Ghirahim, Link swallows his anxiousness and asks, "What did you do with Fi?"

"Here." The demon raises his empty hand into a fist, Goddess Sword appearing as it closes. "You've been busy, I see, tempering your sword. It's getting harder to hold on."

The sword is tossed his way, Link ducking to avoid getting hit again. Ghirahim's taken his sword and thrown it back enough that he knows what to expect.

"You promise not to cheat?"

"You're the one who brought a knife to a gun fight, my dear." He smiles, but the weapon in question is transformed with a flick of his hand. "You're one of the only ones left who appreciates the artistry of swordsmanship, I wouldn't miss it for the world."

Shaking his head in amusement, Link brushes the last of the ropes off and retrieves his own blade. Ghirahim is practically buzzing with excitement, his calm demeanor once again revealed as a farce. They're ready.

"Let's get this over with."

* * *

It's just a battle, in the end. It's nothing special, nothing new. Just a series of insults and a cascade of blows, blade scraping against blade and sharp edges on skin. Link blocks a few hits, Ghirahim lands more, until finally Link finds the upper hand and has the demon pinned against the wall by the neck.

"Have we finally met our end?" The demon murmurs, smirk too arrogant for someone one wrong move away from an open neck. Link knows it isn't. Ghirahim could teleport out if he wanted to, change his sword back to a firearm and finish him quickly, easily overpower Link as he stretched the moment out longer and longer. But he wants to hear Link deny it.

"Not today, I'm afraid." Link scoffs, Goddess Sword dropping from it's place at Ghirahim's chin. "We still have outside commitments. I'll get you eventually, Demon Lord."

"I'm sure you will." He mocks, hand placed so it tilts Link's head towards his. "Unless I get you first." 

The distance closes. Link shuts his eyes.

They break from each other a moment later. It's too short, too soft, too sweet for their dynamic. It's one of the best they've shared. 

Link steps back, giving Ghirahim space. His eyes never leave the other, never taking his gaze away for a second. 

Ghirahim is smug as takes his time leaving. Smiling haughtily, all too proper for someone who was just pinned against his will (or, maybe, he had let Link win). His smirk promises they're not done.

"Pleasure doing business with you, skychild." He gives a mocking bow, vanishing his sword with a flourish. "See you around, Link."

Link responds with a short nod, sheathing his own sword. He wipes the blood from his cheek, lips still burning from the kiss.

"Yeah. See you around."

It was just a thing they did.


	5. Running Out of Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Caged | Buried Alive | Collapsed Building  
> Canon setting, continuation of [Day 1](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26235385/chapters/63855349).

It had been two days since Link encountered Ghirahim while trapped in Eldin, and he hadn't seen the demon since. Releasing him from his confinement to the wall had been a blessing, but he was still stuck in the cell with no way out. 

Two days was a long time to spend like this.

For the first time since drawing the Goddess Sword from her pedestal, Link was truly alone. Occasionally bokoblins would pass by, some mockery of a guard system or to drop something that may have once been food, but other than that, silence. 

Until now.

The volcanic eruption that landed him here was happening again, the hazardous atmosphere returning, his ability to breathe being lost. There was no way out.

Link screamed until he was sure his throat bled, he cried to keep the smoke from his eyes, he raked his nails raw across the bars. He didn't care anymore, there was no one here to see his humiliating condition.

He was going to die.

He was going to die here, buried alive under the burning ash, suffocated and snuffed out while Zelda slept in the past, forever waiting for a hero who wouldn't return. This was where it ended.

There was no point in yelling anymore, there was no one left to hear him. 

Sinking to the ground with his head in his hands, Link sobbed. The air hurt to breathe, it stung his eyes, the roar of the volcano filled his head until it drowned out his thoughts. At least now he didn't have time to contemplate his own death.

He just wanted it to be over.

"Get up." 

He was hallucinating now, he was sure of it. Hearing things in his final moments. His sanity was lost.

Breaking from his attempt to hide from the air, he blinked his irritated eyes and could just barely make out a figure in front of him, looking down with their hands on their hips.

"What?"

"I'm not just going to leave you here, do as I say."

Link didn't respond. Delirious from inhaling foreign gases, probably. His mind playing tricks so it didn't have to comprehend the situation. 

"Do you _want_ to die like this?"

He didn't. He really didn't. He didn't want to die at all, but he was going to. There was no way around it, and now his muddled brain was playing tricks on him, showing him a false way out. If he closed his eyes, maybe it would end soon. 

A loud, frustrated groan, and he was wrenched from his place on the ground. Disoriented, Link found himself encircled in the figure's arms, close enough now to see the last thing he expected.

Before he could ask for clarification, his world faded to black.

* * *

It took Link a moment to become aware of his surrounding. They were somewhere in Faron, green, bright, and clear. He was still pressed up against the body that brought him here. 

His hands curled around white fabric. Clearing the dust from his throat, he hoarsely whispered, "Why?" 

"It wasn't time." 

"Time for what? Me to die?" Link snapped, knowing he was walking on broken glass now, at the mercy of the demon who had him trapped. Unable to move from his hold, Link's forehead fell until it was resting against a bare collarbone, shaking as he tried to process what had happened. "You're going to kill me eventually, why not get it over with?"

There was no answer. NO sound but the bird in the forest, the wind through the leaves. No answer, just more questions. 

They stayed like that for a while. He wasn't sure how much time passed. Breath normal again, he released his grip, and whispered a hushed "thank you", pulling back to fully see Ghirahim for the first time since he saved him.

No emotion. No response. Nothing. The demon did not have his usual chaotic air about him, didn't even seem to be calculative or calm. He was... unreadable. Still, Link's breath caught in his throat, and he leaned in.

There was no resistance when his lips pressed to the other's. He didn't kiss him back, either, but Link would take anything he could get. Already in too deep, he shrank back, afraid he had finally crossed a line and their relationship would never be the same. What they wouldn't have worked, anyway.

He was pulled back in immediately. Ghirahim kissed him like he was still dying (and maybe he was), the taste of ash and iron on his tongue, holding on as if he would never let him go. When silently asked, Link eagerly opened for him, letting that impossibly long tongue invade. A hand tangled in his hair, the other inching down his spine to rest dangerously low on his back. He whined for more.

It couldn't last. Before they got carried away, Ghirahim broke the kiss, removing his hold on Link to thumb at his swollen lower lip, tugging gently from from his normal pout. Link inhaled sharply, feeling the demon lord's grip release him entirely, panting softly as he retreated.

He said nothing before snapping away in a flurry of diamonds, two singed pouches and Link's missing sword in his wake.


	6. Where Do You Think You're Going?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On the run | Failed Escape | Rescue
> 
> Post-Game Link lost (not s-verse)

This was his only chance. A one time mistake, a broken lock, a moonless night. No guards on the trek from the dungeons. No persistent ache from old wounds, no fresh bruises or cuts from the lack of torture that day, no oppressive emptiness weighing down on his mind for a change. Link couldn't have asked for better conditions. 

Bare feet padding silently down carpeted hallway, he peered around the corner, still alone in the darkness. He was so close to freedom, he could taste it. All he was asking for was a door, a window, even a staircase to a roof, anything to get out and get back to his friends.

Given they were still alive and fighting. Given they even wanted to take him back, after everything he failed to do. Given there was even an outside world left. Link stepped around the corner, ignoring the creeping doubt.

"And where do you think you're going?"

Link _froze_. _**Fuck.**_

". . ."

There was no valid excuse, was there? Link sighed in defeat, his shoulders sinking as he lowered his head.

"What do you think?" He answered defiantly. He was already six feet deep in this hole, there was no harm digging himself deeper.

"Don't use that tone of voice with me, Skychild, you're in enough trouble as is." His captor growled, closing the distance between them. Only a faint shadow over his back and a ghost of touch against his spine signaled the spirit had moved, trapping Link again.

"Did you really think it would work? That you could get away with this?"

It felt stupid to say yes now, but Link still mumbled an affirmation. He was met with a soft chuckle, patronizing and cruel. He inhaled sharply as gloved hands snaked around his hips, like claws gripping at his vulnerable sides.

"It's over now, you've lost. Stop fighting so hard." Ghirahim purred, gently caressing his tender skin. Link whined, an embarrassing squeak he couldn't keep in, and Ghirahim rested his head on his shoulder.

"Come with me, and I'll be merciful. I won't even take you back to that horrid cell, how does that sound? Give in Link, it's time."

Ghirahim's hands were wandering over his stomach now, inching towards his chest. His lips grazed his neck, pointed teeth scraping and teasing. It felt _so good_ , Link just wanted to give in and forget, move on and accept. But he couldn't. As long as he had the spirit of the hero, he would fight, and without it, there would be no reason left to live. In a small voice, he weakly responded, "No."

"No? What else do you have? Where else to go?" Ghirahim snapped, motions ceasing as he held Link tighter. "Why must you be so difficult."

Link gasped as a dagger appeared in Ghirahim's hand, pressing point down to his chest. Breath quickening, fear rising, he shook his head slowly, grabbing onto Ghirahim's wrist.

"You can't fool me. If I gave in, it wouldn't be all sunshine and rainbows like you say. Tonight, maybe, tomorrow, but your Master wants me dead or constantly dying. You would go against what he wants?"

Ghirahim did not immediately answer. Still, searching for an excuse, he was waiting, heart beat and blood pumping through his veins the only thing Link could hear. Finally, the dagger drew upwards, absently poking at Link's neck, but with no ill intent. 

"I could convince him. He still owes me, I brought him back. He would let me have this."

"Would he?" Link murmured, disappointed to break the fantasy, but he had to. He had no choice. "Has he kept his promises well? Does he care for you like you care for him?"

The blade pressed deeper into Link's skin, nearly drawing blood. Sucking in a breath, his eyes widened as Ghirahim's face contorted into a snarl next to his cheek.

No insult came. The dagger fell from his neck, vanishing into a shimmer of diamonds. Link was still holding onto Ghirahim's wrist, still shivering as the demon held him tight.

"I will admit, this isn't exactly what I imagined nor desired. I'm not _sorry_ , but... it could have gone differently."

Link did not speak. He sank back into Ghirahim's hold, giving him this surrender, at least, hoping to convince him it was futile to think they could ever make this work. If not tonight, Link would leave him. He would escape or die trying. 

"I can't let you go. Not tonight." Ghirahim sighed, his hold on Link almost an embrace, "But if something were to happen, if somehow you managed to slip away... As much as I want, I would not try very hard to get you back."

Link nodded. He could accept that. He could take this, this one night, this one last chance. He had been through so much. It was necessary to have someone on his side, he told himself. This was just part of the plan. There was nothing wrong with taking Ghirahim up on his offer for one night. Twisting to wrap his arms around the sword spirit's shoulder, he gazed into dark eyes, hoping his own weren't revealing how close he was to giving in completely.

A hand drifted to his hair. Another to his cheek. A small shift, and Link reached up, standing on the tips of his toes, closing his eyes so they wouldn't betray him. For now, they were soft. Tender. Gentle. Later, he knows he will hurt, he will cry and beg and scream, and though he should feel regret, he knows he won't. For now, he can pretend this doesn't ruin anything. For now.

"Thank you."


	7. Please....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Get it Out | No More | Stop, Please
> 
> Given the nature of these prompts, I'm making it very clear right now this is not non con. 
> 
> Link goes dark AU

"It's just a precaution. A safety measure. I'm sure you understand."

He does. He agreed, after all. It was a condition of joining, a fail safe to make sure he wasn't a double agent. Ghirahim's idea, one he had been lucky to convince the demon king would work. Link nods slowly, stiffly, back straight and hands folded in his lap. He's not going to back out now. 

"Besides, think of the power you'll have! Near immortality, invulnerability, increased strength, and you don't even have to lift a finger!" 

It is very appealing. He wants it, really. He's still scared, of course, still terrified of his own actions and unsure if he's made the right choice. 

"It won't hurt too much. I promise. You'll survive. It will be wonderful." Ghirahim steps closer, taking Link's head into his hands. Link doesn't flinch, doesn't move, doesn't acknowledge Ghirahim's presence, even when a kiss is pressed to his head. 

_You were late, hero._

_You were late, and you failed her._

In the end, it was the best decision for everyone. Zelda was no longer counting on him, after all. He wasn't giving them false hope. This way, maybe he had a chance at some sort of damage control.

Ghirahim sighs, brushing his fingers through Link's hair. Another reassurance is on the tip of his tongue, Link can tell, but his motions still. Looking back to the door, he rests a hand on Link's shoulder.

"It's time."

His heart couldn't be beating faster, his nerves strung any tighter. Not that it will be a problem soon. Ghirahim takes his hand, guides him to his feet, and kisses him again.

"I'm so proud of you, darling. You won't regret this."

It's as if he's outside of his body as they make their way down the hall. It's not him anymore, not Link as Ghirahim guides the ex-hero through the castle, twisting down, down, down dark hallways until the soft light of the moon is no more, the torches snuffed out as the demon passes by. Link shivers in the cold, and reminds himself that won't be a problem anymore, either.

"We're here, dear."

Ghirahim pushes open a foreboding door, the intricate patterns springing to life with a red glow. It means nothing to him.

Link walks ahead, as if marching towards his own death, and for all intents and purposes, he is. The boy from Skyloft is long gone. The hero is no more.

The chamber is dark. Demise is waiting for them, new sword in hand. Distantly, Link recognizes that as his future form, the vessel his soul will be trapped in for the rest of eternity.

Ghirahim is behind him again, coaxing him forward towards a stone table, glowing with the same red runes as the door. The whole room is alight with this magic, shadows dancing across the ceiling and walls as the glow flickers like flames.

The sword spirit's hands are light on his sides. Ghirahim had been unusually kind to him, after he came, broken down, to his doorstep, begging for a way out. He had been gentle, soft, even, caring for him as he sobbed and shook, pleading and admitting he was in over his head. He had taken him for the first time that night, sealing the pact and trapping Link in his web.

He didn't mind Link's distant attitude after, long bouts of motionless silence followed by a hunger for attention, needy pleas and cries for affection. He gave it willingly in return for roughness, bruises and cuts and marks that Link didn't mind.

It was his idea, in the end. To become a sword spirit.

Ghirahim helped forge the sword, choosing from blades and hilts like they were wedding dresses not weapons, a special occasion he should be happy about, and it had to be perfect.

But for Link, this was an execution. A sacrifice. A rebirth.

Ghirahim presses another kiss to his neck before beginning his ceremonial spiel, presenting Link as a willing participant to his master, bowing and groveling and flattering the demon king with all he had, trying to keep him appeased and calm. Demise couldn't care less.

Link waits patiently for Ghirahim to finish, absently wondering if he will pass out early and not have to feel it for long. He never had a high pain tolerance.

Finishing his monologue, Ghirahim catches Link off guard with a push forward, sending him scrambling to catch his balance. The spirit's finger's slip underneath Link's shirt, snapping him from his dissociative thoughts.

"Hey! You never said anything about...." Link gasps, tucking his arms in on himself until Ghirahim swats them away. 

"You'll be stuck with them forever if you don't take them off—stop fussing."

He protests still, accepting that in order for this to work he can't have the shirt, but he couldn't at least keep his pants?

"It's also how complications happen. You don't want to end up like your spirit, do you?"

Honestly, he wouldn't mind. No emotions means no emotional pain, no anger or sadness or frustration. But it also means he will never again feel ecstasy when Ghirahim touches him, never again relish the burn in his mind as all else clears away.

Link gives in, quivering as Ghirahim scoops him into his arms.

"It'll be over before you know it. Stop struggling." Ghirahim coos, laying Link down on the cold slab. His hand drifs over his chest, where in a few hours time, a gem will appear. 

Link's breathing speeds up. He is feeling the onset of panic, having second thoughts that maybe this isn't the only option, maybe he should have tried to fight harder. Words he doesn't understand invade his ears, motions that are a blur to his frantic mind pass by, his heart is pounding in his chest, blood roaring in his ears as black spots dance across his vision and—

Everything stops. All he focuses on is the blade held high above his chest, pointed down and ready to strike.

"Wait—!"

It's too late. Link screams as it plunges into the place a gem will form, excruciating pain spreading from the wound, burning away at his skin, magic eating at his core and changing his very being. It hurts, it hurts more than he can take, it is worse than death.

"Stop! Please!" He cries, but the blade only seems to burrow in farther. Ghirahim is by his side, stroking his hair as he sobs and writhes in the torture, whispering praises and reassurances.

"You're doing so well, Link. Let it happen. Let it go. It's almost over. I can already see your core forming, isn't that wonderful? It's almost done. You made the right choice."

"No! Get it out! Hylia, I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry, please, goddess, forgive me!"

He cries helplessly, knowing he will be ignored. He had agreed to this. He told them to do it. He can't stop now.

Link pants harder, struggling for each breath. It feels as if his lungs are solidifying, everything in his body shutting down and stopping, ceasing functions he needs to live. His blood is turning to molten lava, his eyes are glazing over. 

As it goes on, he feels more numb. Maybe he is dying, maybe this is the end. This is his punishment. Maybe it won't work, maybe he'll wake up in his bed on Skyloft and it will have all been a nightmare. But as his limbs grow heavy, his eyes feel hard to keep open, and his mind grows empty with a desire to serve, Link focuses on Ghirahim's smile, his whispers meant only for him.

By the time it is over, Link can't feel anything. He can't move, frozen in place, nearly blind and deaf. He feels nothing, not even his heart beating.

The sword is drawn from his chest, clean of any blood.

"No more...."

And no more comes.

* * *

When he awakes, he is still on the stone slab, but the room is brighter. Fire light illuminates the dark figure at his side, kneeling with head resting on crossed arms upon the table.

"Oh! You're awake!" The demon snaps up, grabbing onto his hand. Link turns his head to see black against green, a shimmering diamond pattern synching up with each other's hand.

"See? It wasn't that bad, was it?"

It had been. It had been so much worse than he imagined, but it was over now, at least. Shifting his head back, he lets it rest on the stone, becoming aware of how everything felt.

He can still feel, which is a surprise. He is stiff, like rock, and his chest is sore. It's a different kind of feeling, not one he is used to, and he feels as if he is lacking something, desperate for a missing piece. 

Ghirahim smiles down at him, gently stroking his hand. His gaze washes over his body, something akin to lust filling his empty white eyes.

"You're really very pretty, Link—an emerald sort of green. Green and gold, and your gem is gorgeous. Like the sky."

Link only nods. It hurts. Everything hurts. He makes to sit up, but cries out as his limbs crack, creaking like a rusty gear. Ghirahim rushes to press a hand behind his back, helping as Link swings his legs off the table. 

"Oh, careful, careful, not so fast! It's difficult to get used to, yes, but before you know it you'll understand. And this!" Ghirahim brushes over his new gem, Link wincing at the touch, "You'll love this! It's so sensitive, wait until our Master first pulls your sword from it, or it heals so I can stroke it without hurting you." He smiles down at Link, taking his befuddled face into his hands. "And soon enough, I'll teach you to shift forms. Not now, don't even try now. You need rest, to heal."

Ghirahim helps him stand, Link wobbly as he holds on for dear life. The other spirit laughs gently at his struggle, sighing when Link glances forlornly towards the exit.

"I expect you're feeling lost. I was too when I woke up, but Master was there for me. Unfortunately, he had matters to attend to, but I can take you to him now. The ache will dull, eventually, and you'll be able to stray further with only a weak bond, but for now, you _yearn_ , don't you? You simply _ache_ with the need to serve? To be used?"

Link nods, finally putting words to what he feels. It is like... like he has a purpose, one purpose, one goal now. All that matters is finding it.

That, and the spirit he is clinging to. Ghirahim seems to feel the same.

"Come now," The sword coos, taking Link's arm with his own, "It's time I introduce you to _our_ Master."


	8. (18+) I've Got You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Support | Carrying | Enemy to Caretaker  
> College AU, mild smut

It's well past midnight when the knock comes at his door.

At first, Ghirahim ignores it. If his roommate forgot his keys again, that's his fault. He needs to learn not to forget them.

The pounding comes again, more urgent this time. Groaning, he slides off the couch, his phone abandoned to replay the same 30 seconds over and over again, and he wrenches open the door.

"What the hell do you want—Link?"

The boy gives him a weak smile, lifting a hand in greeting. He winces, returns it to clutch his side, and slumps against the door frame.

"Sorry, I—I didn't know where else to go. Help? Please?"

* * *

The car ride to the hospital is silent. Link refuses to tell him what's wrong, not saying a word since he first landed on his doorstep. Ghirahim isn't sure how he managed to get up the stairs to his apartment without bleeding out, much less make it to the complex that is a fair distance away from Link's dorm. He doesn't know why he's doing this. He could have easily called an ambulance and made this someone else's problem, turned Link away and hoped for the best. But he's here now, with his self proclaimed nemesis bleeding out in his passenger seat, and he isn't even complaining about the mess. 

When they get to the emergency room, he's not allowed back with Link. There's a long night of no news ahead, drifting between the waiting room and the coffee shop, scrolling through social media and searching for anyone he should contact. He doesn't think of leaving, though.

Link's Instagram comes up with very little. An ex girlfriend he doesn't bother texting, a sister that's all the way back in Link's home town, a roommate that doesn't have any other mention on the internet. Finally, he remembers he still has Link's best friend's number from a group project (that they absolutely bombed, no fault of his), and plugs the digits into his phone.

His finger hovers over the call button. Something in the back of his mind tells him this is a bad idea, that he should wait for Link. Surely he would have gone to her first, and she would have known by now. Unless... unless it's her fault.

Ghirahim closes the phone app.

It looks like Link is his problem for the time being.

* * *

It's sometime around five a.m. when Link is released from the hospital, all stitched up and high on painkillers. Ghirahim doesn't even bother getting information out of him now. 

He ignores the way Link clings to his arm, mumbling some form of thanks as they stumble back to Ghirahim's apartment, Ghirahim scooping Link into his arms.

* * *

He's really fucking tired, but at least his roommate isn't back yet, so Ghirahim drops Link on the bed and gives him another pill to knock him out. He takes the couch out in the living room, but can't sleep. There's something very wrong with this situation.

One, what the hell did Link do to get that messed up? It looked like he had been stabbed. Shot, maybe. He didn't seem the type to get involved in fights.

Two, why did he care so much? Ghirahim had said many times he wouldn't care if Link lived or died. He hated his guts, the perfect little country boy that could do no wrong and never got in trouble in his life. Too innocent, too pure, just a dumb child who didn't know what he was doing. Seeing him hurt... it had done something to him, something he didn't understand. He convinces himself it was just shock, just his body and mind going on autopilot at seeing the blood. 

He ignores the worry as he shuts his eyes, trying for some semblance of sleep.

* * *

His roommate still isn't back when he wakes up again a few hours later, which is a goddess-given blessing. Ghirahim stands outside the door to his room, hesitating to enter.

Finally, he raps his knuckles against the wood once, and clicks open the handle. Link is sitting up in his bed, staring out the window, worrying his lip. He stops when the other enters.

"Ghirahim." He murmurs, voice hoarse. "I'm sorry. About... everything."

He almost snaps right then. Still, Ghirahim keeps his calm, crosses his arms and stands back. 

"What, pray tell, the fuck happened to you?"

Link looks down. His fingers grasp the edges of the blanket, and at least he looks ashamed of this. 

"Got in a fight."

"Really?" Ghirahim laughs, a mocking, incredulous bark. "Our precious little straight A's honor student got in a _fight_. What, were you defending the honor of some fair maiden, oh holy knight?"

"She hit me first."

Ghirahim freezes. He's taken back to the night before, the phone call he almost made. Was his instinct correct?

"Link... this isn't... is there something you need to talk about?"

Link tenses, flinching as he gingerly sets a hand on his side. 

"She was really sweet at first. Zelda told me not to, she said it was a bad idea to get involved with her, but she said she really liked me, and was the first person to say those things to me, but... I didn't feel the same way. She started threatening my friends, stalking me, I.... I let it go too far."

Ghirahim is confused. Link is rambling now, going on about this mystery girl and how she started to obsess over him, her jealousy ending up cumulating with their fight. But something's not adding up, his description not sounding at all like the best friend he remembers.

"Wait. Who are you talking about?"

"Oh. Uh, do you know Cia?"

Ghirahim shuts his eyes in understanding. It makes sense now.

"Damn it, Link, you really fucked around with her?" He chuckles, though it's really not funny. He's been blackmailed by the woman in question, he knows she's not someone to deal with. "And I thought you would never be corrupted."

"We never 'fucked around', that was her problem." Link defends himself. He's blushing now, holding the blanket tight over his chest. "I'm not—I've never—"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it." Ghirahim rolls his eyes, waving off Link's excuses. "That still doesn't answer all my questions. No offense, but why did you come to me?"

If possible, Link's cheeks grow redder. The blanket is pulled up farther.

"Oh. I... you were closest."

That doesn't sound right. Stalking forward, Ghirahim looms over him, taking pride in the submissive way Link lowers his head.

"Really. 'Closest'. You didn't even think to call someone you trust?"

"I was thinking about you, I guess. She said... some stuff, and it hurt, but... she was right."

Ghirahim's tough demeanor falters for a moment, shocked at how easy it was to get a confession out of Link. Shaking his head, he tilts his body forward, trapping Link in a corner.

"Yeah? And what did she say?"

The boy squeaks, and immediately looks even more embarrassed at it. Smiling now, Ghirahim wonders if this is it.

See, he hates Link, yes. But, under their façade of 'holy chosen one' vs 'bad boy demon', he can't help but think there's something else. Link intrigues him, and he hates how much he wants him. He doesn't fuck with straight boys.

But, the way Link bunches the blanket around his legs and hides his face in his hands, he starts to think maybe he's not one of them.

Breathing heavily, Link leans his head against the wall, wincing in pain. He'll need more meds soon, and Ghirahim will graciously get them once he confesses. But for now, he's content to watch Link squirm, just a little.

"She made some comments about... my inclinations, and where my affections lie. She... she kind of implied the reason I don't want to get with her is... you."

Ghirahim is practically over top of him now. Link has given up avoiding him, bravely starting ahead as he waits for a response. Ghirahim only smirks, lifting a finger under Link's chin, scoffing as the boy gulps.

"And that is the truth?"

A nod. That's all he needs. Closing the distance, Ghirahim presses their lips together, just for a moment. He feels Link relax, a sigh of relief, and he pulls back.

"Well then. This is... interesting news. One more thing, why haven't you told your Zelda?"

Link groans, sinking back into the pillows.

"I hate it when she's right."

* * *

No surprise, roommate doesn't come back for the rest of the day. Ghirahim may or may not have sent an, ahem, explicit text to keep him away, but he can neither confirm nor deny that.

With Link in his arms, it's like... all the animosity has gone away. He still relentlessly teases him, but the chase is over, there's no need to keep fighting. Ghirahim is content to let him sleep off his pain half the time, and to fake reluctance to care for him the rest. Secretly, and he will _never_ admit it, he enjoys taking care of Link.

The sun is setting, and Link is still in his bed. He's informed other friends, called them, Ghirahim overhearing the yelling, and reassures he's okay. He gives in and calls Zelda, promising he's alright now.

Later, Ghirahim will help him navigate the whole 'my ex literally tried to kill me' scene, but for now, there's nothing to worry about. Link is awake, for once, curled up next to Ghirahim.

"Finally got me into your bed, huh?" He jokes, sighing into the warmth.

"Hmm. Yeah."

As much as he wants to play along, Ghirahim is tired. Link should be too, he's due for another painkiller. 

Casually, Link tries to continue a conversation. 

"This shirt you put me in is huge. It can't be yours."

"Got it for an ex boyfriend. Broke up before I gave it to him. It's a comfortable shirt, I wasn't about to get rid of it. It's mine now." Tucking a lock of hair behind Link's ear, he adds, "Besides, I don't want you bleeding all over my good clothes."

Link mumbles an apology, but thinks better of it a second later. Shifting so he's straddling Ghirahim's lap, he leans forward, nipping at the other's ear.

"I'm sorry," He whispers huskily, "Is there any way I can make it up to you?"

The offer is there, his tone incredibly suggestive, but Ghirahim only smiles gently. Pressing a kiss to his neck, he counters, "I'd rather you be healthy for your first time."

"Who says it's my first time?" Link snaps back playfully, but it's weak. Ghirahim gives him a look that says 'really', and Link blushes. "Yeah. It would be my first time."

Shaking his head, Ghirahim pulls him in for another kiss. "There will be plenty of time for this later. You need rest. Though, I know something that may help..."

His hand trails down Link's chest, wary of the stiches hiding under layers of bandages, until it comes to rest at his hips. Link whines, bucking into his hand.

"Yes, please."

Slowly dragging it out, Ghirahim lets out a breathy laugh, dipping his hand beneath Link's shorts. He's gentle, careful, grip firm but motions teasing.

Link moans into his ear. He presses his hips into Ghirahim's, grinding against the other, working himself towards arousal.

It doesn't take long. Ghirahim's still tired, so he doesn't taunt Link for too long, freeing both him and himself and taking them into his palm. The only reward he needs is the way Link's face lights up when they touch, the way his cheeks pink from his nose to his ears, the tiny gasps as he wiggles in an attempt to help, but a release would be nice too.

He can tell Link is getting close, feeling things he's never felt before, muscles tensing and relaxing with each brush over the tip. Ghirahim brings his other hand to Link's mouth, tracing the seam, asking for entrance.

When Link cries out next, fingers press down on his tongue. He sucks, whining around them, eyes closed as he chases the hand around his lower half. No protest when they leave, only shivers as they leave a wet trail down his spine.

Ghirahim smirks, giving him a chaste kiss to his plump lips before he presses in, Link's gasp music to his ears. It's what he needs, and soon enough he's trembling through his climax, muscles fluttering and contracting as Ghirahim works him through it.

A few more strokes and Ghirahim finishes himself off. Link is resting against his chest, breathing heavily, eyes scrunched shut. 

He needs new bandages. And will need more pain medication soon. But for now, Ghirahim is content to let him rest, thanking all the goddesses he answered the door the night before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continued on [Day 14: Breathe in, Breathe Out](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26235385/chapters/65830435).  
> 


	9. Where Did Everybody Go?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't say goodbye | Abandoned | Isolation
> 
> Post game

Everyone leaves, in the end.

_I'll be here for you, I promise._

That is the fate of a tool, to be tossed aside when broken and used.

_I'll get us out of this, somehow._

To be forgotten and left behind, abandoned to rest for eternity, waiting, forever, for someone else to pick up the blade.

_I don't know how._

He expects it, at this point. He's come to accept it.

_I don't want to fight you._

He didn't believe him when he said it. He was right not to. And now, left with nothing but a fading form of consciousness, he's cursing the last horrid gift the boy gave him.

_I'll come back for you, once I win._

He gave him hope. Hope that he would return, hope that the final strike and shattering of his sword wouldn't be the end, hope that someday, thousands of years in the future, hands would once again grip his blade and he would be graced with a new master, one he is far too undeserving of. 

_This isn't goodbye._

He has no idea how long its been. He wishes he could say he's given up hope, truly accepted this is his fate, the consequences for his sins, but he knows, deep down, he knows Link wouldn't forget about him. There's only so many ways this could have gone, each worse than the next.

_Don't say goodbye._

He's gotten hurt. He's been unable to convince the goddess. He can't get to the location Ghirahim's sword lies resting, waiting, isolated from those deserving of the hero's attention. 

_I'm coming back, I promise._

Or, worst of all, he doesn't care anymore. 

_Don't say goodbye._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short one today, but I have tomorrow's written and I think it will make up for this :)


	10. (18+) For the Greater Good

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Take Me Instead | ~~Run~~ | Ritual Sacrifice  
> Roleswap/Canon Divergent AU, heavy smut

He's the only thing standing between his best friend and his worst enemy.

There wasn't time, he didn't even think to draw his sword. Link only holds a hand out, one in a silly attempt to stop Ghirahim, the other wrapped around his friend's shoulders. She holds on tight, but Link is afraid she will throw herself into danger to protect him. Even after everything they've been through, everything they've been told... he knows he won't let her. 

"How adorable. You still think you can stop me." Ghirahim smiles, a wicked grin with too sharp teeth. Link stiffens.

"I can stop you from getting to her."

It's stupid. He knows. But he's fought Ghirahim before, and Zelda hasn't... it's also selfish, incredibly selfish and idiotically risky, but the way he sees it, it's his only choice. He can't let her die just so he can live.

"Really? And how do you plan to do that?" The demon asks, stalking forward. Link takes a cautious step back, but Zelda does not follow. He knows what she's about to do. 

"Don't hurt her. Take me instead."

He hears a soft chorus of 'no', almost drowned out by the ticking of the Gate of Time. Link sucks in a deep breath, dropping his hold from Zelda's shoulder, and takes a step forward.

Ghirahim laughs. He throws his head back, hair flipping to show the black marks caused by his deranged outbursts, and vanishes his sword. Link glares, daring him to take this seriously. 

"How heroic of you. Unfortunately, that's not how this works. I don't need you, hero, I need the spirit maiden. _Hylia's soul."_

"She's not Hylia."

Silence falls over the room. The others don't even stop him, too shocked to deny his statement.

Ghirahim's amusement fades as quickly as it came. He's confused, shocked like the others, but there's anger there, just under the surface. 

"I—what?"

"She's not Hylia's reincarnation," Link repeats, "I am."

All they hear is the slow grind of the gate as they wait with bated breath for Ghirahim to process this. He knows everyone else wants him to laugh it off, to ignore Link's outlandish proposal and continue his abduction of Zelda, but Link knows him better. Ghirahim knows now not to underestimate him.

"That's... not possible." Ghirahim scoffs, "There's no way—You seem to forget who I am. I wouldn't have missed that fact. Nice try, skychild, but it's not enough."

He's by Zelda's side in a flash of diamonds. It's too late, Link thinks, that his plan didn't work, but he's still going to try. Drawing his sword, he lunges, putting himself between the two.

The sword doesn't stop him, of course, because it's not the _real_ Goddess Sword. Ghirahim just swats him aside like a fly, and Link can already feel the bruise forming on his cheek.

It's over now, he panics, as he looses his balance and falls off the edge of the steps. Ghirahim has Zelda's face in his hand, twisting it to the side to inspect her, and she looks as if she wants to spit on him.

She doesn't, because she has always had more self control than Link, and knows what's at stake. She's going to kill him herself when they make it out of this, Link thinks, before realizing if he doesn't act fast there will be no 'make it out of this' for her. 

He ends up not needing to.

"You're... you're telling the truth." Ghirahim mutters, eyes going wide. "She's not Hylia."

It hurts to see the fear rise in Zelda's eyes, but if this is what it takes for both of them to live, it's what he will do.

Everything happens in a blur. Ghirahim's grabbing him around his waist and flipping him over his shoulder. He can hear Zelda yelling, the sound of his discarded sword clinking against metal, and then it's all gone.

* * *

"Explain it to me again."

"I'm the reincarnation of the goddess and Zelda's the chosen hero. We switched places so you wouldn't get to me."

"You're telling me... you're telling me, all those times we fought, _alone_ , I was _that close_ to you?"

"I never let my power wake up. You were too preoccupied finding her to notice. Like you said, for your sacrifice ritual thing-y to work Hylia's power has to be at it's fullest. Zelda was a decoy, she kept you busy while I set everything up so she could take her place as the hero."

"I think you ended up 'keeping me busy' more than her. _Fuck,_ I can't believe, all this time. . ."

"I know. You still haven't won, though."

* * *

They're back at Skyview Spring soon enough. Unfortunately, Ghirahim knows what to do, where to go. Link can only hope Zelda gets to the Triforce in time, finds the sword he has made ready for her, and fixes the mess he's gotten them into. He doesn't regret this, though.

They pass through the room where they first fought, and Link starts to get nervous. He didn't think he'd ever have to actually awaken his powers, much less do so with Ghirahim closely watching him. He fidgets in his new sacred outfit, tugging at the long sleeves as Ghirahim opens the door to the spring.

"Is the dress necessary?" 

Ghirahim folds his arms. "The fuck if I know. It's a highly complicated ceremony only those closest to the Goddess were permitted knowledge of. I'm going off rumors here, I'm not risking anything."

Link sighs. 

"....do I have to take it off."

Again, Ghirahim shrugs. "Not unless you want to? I don't see why it's bothering you so much, this is what you were made for."

Since finding out he's not the hero, Ghirahim had been acting... strange, around him. Link misses their old dynamic, the flirtatious banter and complicated dance of battle. Ghirahim treated him like an enemy, and though he denied it so vehemently before and after, an equal. Now Link only feels he's being used.

They're by the water's edge when Ghirahim adds, "I will say, though it does look good on you, I'm sure it would look just as good on the floor."

Link blushes despite himself. 

"It's staying on."

"Whatever." 

He doesn't sound as disappointed as Link hoped he would.

* * *

Link convinces Ghirahim they need to walk to Eldin, and can't just teleport. By the time they make it, it's night, and he claims they can't go any farther like this, trying to buy Zelda some more time. Ghirahim is less than pleased.

"You're stalling."

"No I'm not! You said it yourself, you don't know what you're doing."

Ghirahim concedes with a frustrated sigh, telling Link he's welcome to get some sleep but if he even thinks about going anywhere, he will not hesitate to render him incapable of movement. Link has other plans, anyway.

They're sitting across each other, a small cooking fire between them, when Link tries to casually enact them.

"So. You're still pretty—uh—pretty dead set on doing this." He says, idly poking the fire with a stick. In the guise of stoking the fire, he scoots closer, inching around the pit. "What, um, what exactly is it going to be like?"

"It's not like I have a choice." Ghirahim avoids the question, turning away as Link gets closer still.

Link is very close now. He's nervous, busying himself with anything from poking the dying flames to brushing stray ash off his dress, before finally dropping, "You know, Ghirahim, if the only reason you're following orders is because you have to, I can help with that."

"Don't even joke about that." 

The response is immediate, and spoken coldly. Though it doesn't seem to be a step in the right direction, it gives Link hope. There is part of Ghirahim that doesn't want to do this, either. 

"I'm not joking. I can help, I am the goddess."

"Goddess reborn."

"Close enough." He shrugs, discarding the burning stick. He crawls closer, sitting on his knees in front of the demon.

"I know I can. If it's some kind of magic powered contract, I've done something similar... and that was without any of my full powers, it wasn't that hard, really, and we're close to the spring, it's the last piece of the puzzle, I could try as soon as we're finished, and, hey, there's no harm in trying, right? If it doesn't work I may just need to practice, if you know what's keeping you connected, that would help." He rambles, searching for the right words to convince him.

"A sword bond."

"What?"

"Between Demise and myself. It's a sword bond."

"So you're..." Link murmurs, crawling closer still. His knees bump against Ghirahim's.

"Yes. I am Demise's sword."

"That's great!" Link shouts, clapping his hands together. "I don't even need the rest of my power to break that, I mean, I bonded Zelda to the Master Sword and she wasn't even there!"

Ghirahim doesn't react. Sitting back on his heels, Link fumbles with the sleeves on his dress. He's hesitant to continue, worried about making one wrong step. Still, they're here because of one dumb decision on his part, what's one more?

"I could... do it now if you wanted me to?"

"I'll think on it."

It's a start. Sighing in relief, Link smiles again. Ghirahim's face is still turned from him, the glow and shadows of the fire making the color under his eyes even darker. It didn't go as horribly as Link thought it would, but he's still not completely on board. Making up his mind, Link leans in closer. Especially if Ghirahim doesn't agree, this could be his only chance. 

"Can I help convince you?"

That gets Ghirahim's attention. The demon finally looks at him, questioningly, as Link feels a blush creeping onto his face.

"How so?" Ghirahim asks apprehensively, but Link thinks his body language is pretty clear. The demon is slowly spreading his legs, after all, letting Link drift closer still. He's practically in his lap when he whispers, "Let me show you."

He waits for confirmation, and luckily Ghirahim allows it. His heart is racing, but Link ignores the butterflies in his stomach. Pressing down on his demon's chest until Ghirahim is flush with the ground, Link smiles weakly, pretending he has any idea what he's doing.

Ghirahim watches him with mild interest. He's still acting standoffish, which Link just won't have. He straddles the spirit's hips, teasingly grinding against what he is pleased to learn is a growing hardness.

"I don't see how this will change anything." Ghirahim murmurs, but it's followed by a low groan as Link leans down to lick at his exposed chest, pushing away the fabric to toy with a dark nipple. He smirks against skin, wiggles his hips a little more, and thoroughly enjoys the resulting moan. 

When Link sits up again, his face is flushed from his nose to his ears. He pants softly, gives a few rough grinds of his erection against Ghirahim's, and reaches for the edge of his dress.

The demon is completely focused on him by now, watching him like a hawk as he pulls the white fabric up and over his head. Link shivers despite the heat of Eldin, tossing aside his clothing and unpinning the shimmering accessories from his hair. 

He's preoccupied, but still feels the hands slide onto his hips. Chuckling, he places his own atop them, their gentle grip guiding him as he shuffles forward, lining his soft rear against the now fully erect cock he intends to make good use of.

Link doesn't ask, but gives a breathy whine and tugs at Ghirahim's clothing, putting on his best show of neediness.

"Be patient." Ghirahim growls, more playful than threatening, and his hands slip from his hips to pull and press at his cheeks. A finger slides between them, ghosting over his puckered hole, and Link trembles with anticipation. 

Ghirahim is more thoughtful than him. He snaps, and Link feels something cool fill his passage, seeping out between his thighs. He's gasping, hands bunched in silky fabric, pleading with the other to get what he wants. 

It comes soon enough. Another snap, and Ghirahim's gloves are gone. The cool fingers now dip inside of him, Link bucking back to get them deeper. There's two, three, and then Ghirahim scissors them, spreading him apart and rubbing at his walls.

It hurts, at first, and Link winces at the pain. He whispers a request to slow, and Ghirahim obliges, pulling one back and only caressing, not opening. The muscles relax, and Link is once again begging for more.

He hopes this works, really, truly hopes this will convince the demon. There's something that feels wrong to him, some part of him that supposedly is the reincarnated power of a goddess, but it's so disconnected from the idea of _Link_ , he ignores it and lets his enemy prepare him for more, eagerly awaiting what's to come.

Ghirahim's other hand brushes over his cock, and Link's nails dig into skin.

"Oh, please, I can't, I can't, if you do that I'm going to—" Ghirahim cuts him off with a laugh, pulling from him and waving away his own clothing. Link's eyes go wide as his member springs against his bottom, and judging by what he feels, it's a bit longer and thicker than he expected. 

Nevertheless, Link lifts himself on his knees, steading his shaking arms on Ghirahim's wonderful abs. He positions himself, gives his hips a teasing little shake, and sinks down. 

It leaves him _breathless._ He presses until he can feel Ghirahim's hips, trying hard to relax and breath so it will hurt less later. Ghirahim trails a gentle hand down his chest, and Link squeezes his thighs around the demon's hips in response. 

After catching his breath, Link begins to move. He rocks and bounces, moaning as he chases pressure against that sweet spot deep inside him, praises and pleas falling from his lips.

Ghirahim is no less enthusiastic. He's returning each of Link's presses with thrusts of his own, slapping against each other, grip on Link's hips sure to bruise. He can't take his eyes off Link.

" _Fuck_ , you're tight," He hisses, accompanied with a harsh thrust, "Goddess, Link."

"Yeah," He smiles cockily, rising to the tip and slamming himself back down."That's me." 

It's so good, Link thinks, so fucking good, such an amazing feeling, that he almost forgets what got them here. Enraptured by the demon, Link cries out, gasping into the empty night air. 

He's not slowing anytime soon, but worry creeps into his mind. What if this has only made it worse? He's not really convincing him of anything more than his shared attraction. He's trying to get Ghirahim to realize he can help him with the power he's been given, not lead him to think he's so far distanced from the realm of the holy he'll strip and bend for any willing enemy.

Link gets an idea. Placing his hand on Ghirahim's chest, he lets it light up with holy magic, a gentle stream from somewhere deep inside him.

Ghirahim _screams._

He wrenches his hand back, afraid he's accidentally hurt him, but Ghirahim is faster. The demon lashes out, snatching Link's wrist and pulling it back. His eyes slowly open, weak with a hint of shame as he places Link's hand around his own neck.

It's not at all what he was expecting. Even more flustered, Link slows his movements, jumping in shock when he's met with a harsh slap to his ass and a rough growl, Ghirahim's grip on his wrist tightening. He takes a shaky breath and speeds up.

"Do you want me to... choke you?"

"No. I don't need air. Just... whatever you did... _do that again."_ Ghirahim orders, barely able to say so through gritted teeth. Link is happy to comply.

His hand lights with the magic again, not sure what it's doing exactly, but Ghirahim seems to enjoy it. He moans, eyes closing in the pleasure once more, and Link is entrapped. He's beautiful. He wants him more than ever, wants him to just give in and let him save him. He'd do nearly anything, if that's not obvious at this point.

His thighs grow sore as the strain catches up to him. Link takes his other hand and presses down on Ghirahim's chest, letting more of the unidentifiable golden magic flow through him, and he's surprised to feel a sharp edge poke his palm. Pulling away for just a moment, he gasps at what he sees.

A gem, peaking out of his lover's chest, the black cracks spreading like spider webs as they follow. Ghirahim doesn't seem to notice or care.

Link smiles. Somewhere in the back of his mind, somewhere in a memory not his, he recognizes this as a core, the heart of a sword spirit. Incredibly vulnerable, incredibly _sensitive_ , and enough to send Ghirahim over the edge.

All it takes is Link pressing into the red diamond while clenching down and Ghirahim's eyes fly open. He gasps, a shocked, scandalized cry as he thrusts into Link through his release, filling him with a burning, sticky mess.

Link is very pleased with himself. Slipping off, he watches as Ghirahim's chest heaves, his core slowly fading. Not wanting to bother him, Link swings his legs off and sits to the side to finish himself off.

Ghirahim doesn't let him do so alone. Before he can object, his mouth surrounds him, tongue drawing wonderous circles around and around and around before he takes the whole length into his mouth. Link places a hand in his hair, gently combing his fingers through the white locks.

Fingers sneak behind him, and suddenly thrust back into his sore hole. Link jolts, mouth falling into a silent 'oh', as Ghirahim works him to the edge again, helping to push him over the rise until he too finds a climax.

They both crumble to the ground, pulling each other in, letting the aftermath process. It's nice, Link thinks, as he snuggles closer, pants sounding almost like breathy laughs as he lets his mind clear.

Ghirahim is relaxed against him, a good sign. Link doesn't want to break the spell, but he really wants to know, and has never had much patience. 

"So..." He begins, blinking up at the demon, searching his face for some sigh. "Did that... will you at least let me _try_?"

Ghirahim doesn't smile, doesn't immediately respond. He brushes Links bangs out of his face, then, after a while, sighs long and low.

"Yes, you can try." He murmurs, arms wrapped closer around Link. "And I sincerely hope what you claim to do works."

* * *

It works.


	11. (18+) They Look So Pretty When They Bleed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blood Loss | ~~Internal Bleeding~~ | ~~Trial of Blood~~
> 
> Canon setting, and uh medium smut again which was not the plan at all (I think a better prompt for this is 'blood kink')

Link didn't expect to run into anyone on the surface, much less this beautiful stranger. 

He's fucked, he thinks immediately, as he starts monologuing about his plans and how this is his world down here. He's so... elegant, extravagant, elaborate. Something about the way he's speaking keeps Link captive, holding onto his every word.

He's getting flustered, he can feel. He can't hide the blush forming on his cheeks. 

It's the kind of situation his mind would make up at night, when he can't sleep and wants to escape from the day to day life of knighthood training. He dreams of letting someone else take control, of his bullies and the enemies from the fantasy books Zelda makes him read shoving him down and making him surrender, of harsh insults disguised as sweet nothings.

He really shouldn't be thinking about this now. Not with Ghirahim so dangerously close.

"It hardly seems fair, given my position. . ."

But, _oh_ , is Link thinking some embarrassing thoughts, of getting pinned to a wall and letting this self proclaimed demon lord take out his full anger on him, however that may be. He's nearly lost in his thoughts as Ghirahim traces a light touch over his shoulder, whispering in his ear.

"Which is why I promise up front not to murder you. . ." 

But this was real life, and Link didn't have time for fantasies.

"No, I'll just beat you within an inch of your life!"

Link trips forward, breathing heavily as he snaps from his thoughts. Ghirahim only laughs at him, stalking forward as he vanishes his cape and beckons him to fight.

The battle has begun.

Link's sloppy. He'd been neglecting practice, both in his training to fly and to fight, so he stumbles through the battle, his only saving grace Ghirahim doesn't seem to want to attack back. The demon only blocks his blows, chuckling softly as Link grows ever more frustrated. He gets arrogant, though, and when he reveals Link's weakness, it's what he needs to change the tide.

Link stops his patterns. He attacks wildly, randomly, and Ghirahim blocks all those, but when he slows and pretends he's catching his breath, Ghirahim lets his guard down. It's enough to get a strike in.

The demon lord growls at his attack, but doesn't change his strategy. Link thinks he may have a chance, now, if the battle is going his way. He lands a few more hits, before one final strike against Ghirahim's chest. The demon hadn't even drawn his own sword.

"Enough!" He snarls, but the anger diminishes quickly. "Oh, skychild, you're playing a dangerous game."

Link stands his ground, though he's a little confused. He expects Ghirahim to do something else, to go on the offensive, but the demon watches him with a dark look in his eyes. Link starts to think something is wrong, and begins to raise his shield as a precaution, but Ghirahim is faster.

A snap, and diamond studded daggers appear from thin air. They lash out at Link, swiping across his arms and chest, one hitting his cheek. Link doesn't cry out, but he hisses in pain.

He thinks he's ready for the next strike, but Ghirahim is once again thinking ahead. He disappears in a flash of diamonds, Link reeling around to see where he's gone, and suddenly his sword and shield are wrenched from his grasp.

He's defenseless. Link shouts, struggling as he's kicked to the ground, and scrambles back as Ghirahim corners him. He's backed himself into he wall, scratching at the stone as he tries to pick himself from the floor.

Ghirahim's so much taller than him. So much stronger. Link lets out a shaky breath, his glare his only defense.

"Don't look so scared, dear." Ghirahim croons, lifting Link's chin with the tip of a dagger. "I promised I wouldn't kill you, didn't I?"

Link grits his teeth, avoiding the question. His mind is still suggesting an outcome that is _very_ different, praying Ghirahim doesn't notice what this is doing to him.

He's not so lucky. Ghirahim licks his lips, long tongue slipping over white and drawing the motion out. When Link doesn't answer, the point digs in, a trickle of blood dripping down his neck.

"I asked you a question." He murmurs, so close now, so close that Link feels his arm brush against his head, trapping him. He takes in another shaky breath, and shuts his eyes.

"I'm not scared." He answers defiantly. 

"No?" Ghirahim grins, bringing his free hand from the wall to smear the blood coming from Link's cheek. "You're positively _trembling_. If not from fear, from what?"

Link opens his eyes again, and he hopes his lowered gaze is enough of an answer. Saying it out loud feels wrong, like he's admitting to a vice he will never be rid of, but when he looks back up into Ghirahim's deep black irises, he can sense the recognition there. 

"I'll tell you what. I'll give you what you want, if you give me what I want. No, not the girl, she's long gone. A simple exchange, equivalent in values."

He should know. He should know not to make deals with demons, he should know not to listen to strangers. But Ghirahim is... familiar, somehow, as oddly familiar as the surface, or the sword he carries. Link slowly nods.

"Wonderful."

Link panics when he realizes he doesn't know what Ghirahim's going to do to him. Squirming in his grasp, he only succeeds in getting his arms pinned above his head, daggers ripping holes in his sleeves. He could get out of this if he wanted to, and he's sure Ghirahim knows, but he stays out for now.

"That's better." The demon purrs, dragging another one of his blades down Link's chest, the edge catching on his clothing. "You don't need this, do you?"

Link isn't given a chance to answer. Ghirahim snaps, and his tunic, chain mail, belts, _everything_ covering his chest is gone. He's no longer held in place, he realizes. There's a pause.

Link doesn't move his arms. 

"Good boy." Ghirahim coos, brushing over a pink nipple and pressing his thumb into Link's skin. He's smiling, a terrible, hungry smile, and Link shudders again.

"I expect you're wondering what I plan to do with you." The ghost of touch slides down to his stomach, resting just above his pants. "Don't you worry, it will only hurt _a little_."

Link jerks at the threat. He's well aware he agreed to this, but that was a decision made out of want, and, frankly, he was thinking with his dick, not his brain. He still wants what Ghirahim offered, but is becoming more anxious to figure what exactly he has agreed to. 

He's snapped from his thoughts by the dagger in Ghirahim's hand slicing across his hip. It stings more than hurts, and he barely feels it, gasping as Ghirahim holds the blade up for inspection. It's clean.

"That was just a taste, dear, just a little _tease._ If you want what I have to give you, you're going to have to take a lot more than that. I promise to heal you after, if that makes you feel better." He whispers, and if he weren't so condescending, it would have been a sweet sentiment. Link takes another shaky breath, considering his options.

Ghirahim won't kill him. He'll heal him after— _and more_ —and they'll be on their way and hopefully never see each other again. But he's still the monster who caused Zelda to fall from the sky, still a _demon_ , and still holds much more power over him.

"Well? I'm waiting. Are you still up for this?"

He's really not thinking straight. Link nods again, this time accompanied with a breathy 'yes', and squeezes his eyes shut in anticipation.

It's torture, hearing Ghirahim laugh but not move, and then suddenly the blade is draw across his side. He shouts, because this time it _hurts_ , but the adrenaline is still keeping him from feeling the worst of it. 

Cracking open his eyes, he watches Ghirahim lick the bloody dagger, his own locked onto Link's pained face. He winces again, wanting to cover his wound, but doesn't move. Ghirahim goes in again. 

This time the slice is across his ribs, dragging down and catching the bones. Link whines with each slip, deciding keeping it in is a lost cause. Maybe Ghirahim will reward him if he screams.

He's delirious with pain and desire. He's ashamed to say he's only been getting more aroused as Ghirahim continues, mixing it up and giving him a few light nicks and one horrible stab near his stomach. Link does scream for that one, crying as the demon sinks to his knees and _penetrates the wound with his tongue._

Ghirahim had promised not to kill him, but maybe he didn't know blood loss would. Every hit Link had landed hadn't drawn blood on him, after all. He shouts again, this time a plea to stop, and Ghirahim does. 

Link pants hard as he waits for what's next. Ghirahim seems satisficed, complying with his wish to end this, and slinks back up Link's body. His lips are smeared with red, the blood staining his white clothes.

"You look awfully pretty when you bleed." The demon whispers, tongue flicking out to lick the cut on Link's cheek. He winces at the sting, only causing the wound on his side to feel worse, and Ghirahim sighs.

"I suppose I do have to heal you now, don't I?" His hand on Link's chest, he mutters, "I won't have you spreading lies that I am not a man of my words."

The feel of his skin stitching back together by magic is worse than any potion, but more thorough than he could have hoped to obtain with his own healing supplies. He leans into the touch, gritting his teeth through the pain, ignoring Ghirahim's harsh insults. 

He's out of breath when it's over, sinking against the wall as he can barely hold himself up. Ghirahim gives him an awful smirk, before dropping to his knees again.

Link _moans_ at the sight. He hears a soft chuckle, and delicate hands start to open his pants, ever so slowly dragging them down.

"As I promised." He whispers, breath ghosting over Link's sensitive cock, "You were such a good boy for me, Link."

His tongue whips out to wrap around the tip. Link slams his head against the wall, not prepared for this at all, and cries as it begins to move, so skillful and smooth as he caresses and sucks the life out of him. Link refuses to look down, knows he will see his member painted with his own blood and whatever is left of the white lip paint, but he can't help himself. He glances Ghirahim's way, catching the demon's eye as he bites at his knuckles.

Ghirahim pops off and grins. "Enjoying the show, skychild?" 

Link only whines as response, bucking his hips back towards Ghirahim's mouth. He's held back against the wall with a harsh, "Behave," mouth wrapping back around him.

He's close, so close, he's right there, he can feel it. He squirms, wriggling against Ghirahim's hold as he tries to get deeper, hand sneaking down to card through Ghirahim's hair. He hears a rough growl, but the intention is lost as the vibrations cause him to shout, and it's what he needs to finish.

"Ghirahim! I'm—oh, I'm there, almost, you're so good, it feels so good—" He incoherently moans, quivering as Ghirahim slides off again, letting his tongue rest against the underside in the most tortuous way.

"Come for me, and I'll let you go."

He does. He comes as soon as those malicious lips touch his cock again, his release glorious and almost painful as he comes down Ghirahim's throat. His legs nearly give out, and he lets himself sink to the floor, vaguely aware of Ghirahim pinning him with a salty, iron-hinted kiss. He squeaks when he realizes this is the taste of himself. 

"That was... rewarding." The demon gloats, Link's face held in his hand. He gives him another peck to his lips, before rising up and declaring, "I think the victory goes to me, yes?"

The responding giggle is enough to make Ghirahim smile, a real smile that Link doesn't see. It's gone the next moment, Ghirahim's arrogant and proud aura returning, and his cape reappear around his shoulder, cascading down in a rain of diamonds.

"I must be going. I've spent more time here than I intended to. As much as this was, don't get in my way again, sky child. I won't hesitate to kill you."

Link doesn't register the threat, and nods as Ghirahim vanishes with a flourish of his cape. He glances around, sees his clothes folded near the door, and sighs.

He can tell this won't be a one time thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sky child is apparently two words. I have been lied to


	12. Psych 101

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Defiance | Struggling | Crying
> 
> Canon Setting

_The truth of it is you were late._

Link stared at the fading golden beam, tired and sore, barley able to process his current surroundings.

_You were late, and you failed to protect her._

He had seen Zelda, seen she was safe, and had been so close to taking her home again. He wanted off the surface, to bring her back safe and sound, and to never leave the clouds again.

_Do my words anger you, boy?_

He never asked for this. For an of this. He was here to get Zelda and go home, screw the "legends" and stories. That was all the were. Stories.

_If this failure is any indication,_

He hadn't failed. Zelda could take care of herself, she wasn't helpless. He was here to get her back to her bird and that was all.

_I fear the goddess is mistaken in her choice of agents._

Link sank to his knees, vaguely aware of his sword chiming to tell him he had to move on. What was the point now, anyway? Zelda had made her choice. If she wasn't coming home with him, why was he down here?

He was lost in his misery and self doubt, but not so far that he didn't hear the door open.

"I see you're still alive."

Link ignored the newcomer, too angry to face him again.

"And still here, aren't you supposed to be looking for someone?"

"What do you want, Ghirahim?" Link yelled, whipping around with his sword drawn. His face was contorted into a snarl, but the tears threating to fall from his eyes took away from the power it had.

Ghirahim seemed surprised. He took a step back, arm held out in wary defense, and commented, "Evidently you did not find her."

In his frustration, Link turned his back on his enemy. The tears were falling freely now, the sword hanging limply from his hand.

"What's it to you?"

"Well, you see," The demon began, footsteps on the stone getting closer to Link, "As I am also in search of the spirit maiden, I thought tailing you would provide some clue. I was wrong."

"Yeah, you sure were!" Link yelled, and in a rare burst of strength, he spun around and tackled the demon. Sword pressed against the other's neck, he tried to hold back his sobs, blade doing little more than keeping Ghirahim in place.

Ghirahim stared up at him, a hand placed on his own. He did not teleport from the hold.

"You're hurt, aren't you?" The demon whispered, "She hurt you?" 

Gently caressing his sword hand, Ghirahim shushed him, calming coos like one would use to sooth a restless remlit. It made Link's blood boil.

"You're in pain." 

Link couldn't hold in a sob. Pressing the blade down further, sure to choke a normal living being (which Ghirahim was not), he took a shaky breath.

"I know what you're trying to do. It won't work. I'll—I'll stop you. I may not be able to help her," Link paused, struggling through his tears, "but I can stop you."

Ghirahim sighed. With a snap, he vanished, leaving Link stumbling forward onto the stone. He yelled again, an anguished, painful cry, and let the tears fall, alone in his failure.

Link didn't hear the chime sound through the hall again.

"Oh, skychild." Ghirahim murmured, watching from a distance. "If only you could see how she uses you."


	13. I Think I've Broken Something

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Broken Down| Broken Bones | Broken Trust
> 
> Post game master/sword AU

After an accident where Link got himself put out of commission for a few days, it was clear he was going to have to rethink some things with Ghirahim. The sword demanded his attention, all of it, all the time, and Link wasn't able to give it.

He had to heal, he had to have time, but Ghirahim was pestering him to pick up the blade again. Link couldn't find a moment of peace, not to heal, not to rest, not even now, when he was trying to study for his upcoming examination that could very well determine if he was allowed to become a knight or not (despite, you know, _saving the world_ ).

"You're out of practice. You _need_ to train if want to wield my blade, I won't have you wasting my potential through your indolence and _cowardice!"_

Link slammed his book shut.

"You know what? Fine, fine! I'll fight you with your damn sword, let's go, now."

Link was frustrated and angry at being put on bedrest as well, but he couldn't put up with Ghirahim any longer. Snatching the sword off his desk, he limped towards the training yard.

* * *

"Well? This is what you wanted, isn't it?"

Link challenged, most of his weight on his good leg, waiting for Ghirahim to draw his own weapon. The demon gave him a lifeless smile, summoning his own weapon.

They fought dirty. There were no rules to this match, Link not caring about the training he was taught, or the sense of etiquette Ghirahim strived to maintain. He swung blindly, taking advantage of using Ghirahim's sword against him, and took his anger at the world out in his strikes.

Ghirahim was clearly displeased. When Link grazed his arm, leaving a long streak revealing the black underneath, he retaliated with a harsh dagger sent into Link's shoulder. Crying out, Link ripped the blade from his arm, stumbling back in pain.

"You're not trying hard enough."

"I'm doing the best I can!" Link snapped, sword raised again. 

"It's not enough!"

In a rush, Ghirahim had him trapped. His sword was flat against Link's, pushing down at an awkward angle and putting pressure onto Link's already hurt arm. He tried to duck out, but Ghirahim pressed down harder, keeping Link in place. His face contorted into a hiss, and three of his daggers appeared to threaten Link more.

"That's enough." Link grunted, wary of the dagger floating near his face.

"No. Fight back. You can get out of this."

Link whined in denial, gasping as the pressure increased. His arm bent in a way it should not, keeping the sword from slicing down and taking out something vital.

"Ghirahim, I _can't_ , please!"

He did not let up. Link's breath sped up, fear apparent in his eyes. The pressure on grew worse.

"Ghirahim, _stop!_ "

A loud crack resounded through the training grounds. Link cried out in agony, falling to his knees as he could no longer hold onto his sword. It clattered to the ground, a dull thud against the dusty path.

Ghirahim snapped from his self induced trance. Crouching down to help, he offered a hand, but—

"Don't touch me!" Link yelled, flinching away from Ghirahim's outstretched hand. He struggled to crawl back, tears pricking his eyes as he held onto his limp arm, getting distance between himself and his sword.

"Link..."

"No! Don't—just leave me alone! I told you I didn't want to do this, I—just, just get away from me!" 

Cradling his broken arm, Link let out a sob, pain and anger and frustration from the past several days boiling over in unrestrained rage. 

"I told you to stop! I'm not like you—I'm human, I get _hurt,_ and I'm not at my best right now! If you can't see that... if you can't listen to me when I tell you to...." Link stuttered, taking in shaky breaths. His anger was poisoned with fear, eyes going wide at how close Ghirahim had been to irreparably hurting him. He turned away from Ghirahim.

"I'm going to find Zelda to help me. Deal with your own damn sword, but by the time I'm back, I want you away. Either in the sword, on the surface, I don't—I don't care. **That's an order."**

Sighing as he stood up, Link added, "Just... just until I can heal. I can't be around you right now. I don't know if... I can't trust you when I'm not at my best. I'm sorry."

He didn't look back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for two shorter, rushed chapters, I do still want to update my long fic weekly and this week's was kind of big


	14. (18+) Breathe In, Breathe Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  ~~Delayed Drowning | Chemical Pneumonia | Oxygen Mask~~ (I couldn't think of anything for the main prompts so I'm moving onto their back ups. The prompt I chose is Alt. 4: Stitches)
> 
> College AU, continuation of [Day 7](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26235385/chapters/65485339).  
> (implied smut but not graphic)

It's only been three days, but having Link in his apartment feels natural. He did eventually have to leave, and unfortunately Ghirahim had to deal with his annoying apartment-mate again, but every text message he has to look forward to makes life a little more bearable. 

Roommate's gone to do something, Ghirahim doesn't know what and doesn't care to learn. He texts Link as soon as the door clicks shut, an honestly dreadful combination of emoticons (wink, heart, eggplant, peach, heart eyes, sparkles, two more suggestive hand motions and another heart) and though he's only given an angry keysmash in return, Link is knocking on his door practically a second later. 

They don't jump each other immediately, because as much as Ghirahim teases Link, he's still injured, and he's absolutely willing to take this as slow as Link needs. Injury or not.

So they just get on the other's nerves, make out a little bit, and enjoy each other's company.

It's really nice. Better than any relationship he's had before.

Link is in the kitchen, waiting on the microwave, when Ghirahim sneaks up behind him. He's bent over the counter, resting on his elbows as he watches the seconds count down, blissfully unaware of his boyfriend entering the kitchenet. It's simply too good of an opportunity to miss.

Link jumps as soon as Ghirahim's hand makes contact with his rear, his squeal almost as loud as the slap. Of course, his retaliation is to shove Ghirahim away half-heartedly, both of them laughing as they stumble back to Ghirahim's bedroom. The microwave is ignored.

"Link. Are you sure about this?" He asks, hand placed on the other's chest to keep him enough distance away so he can read his body language.

"Yeah. I mean, you did text me with the implication this may happen..." He bites his lip, hands bunched in Ghirahim's loose t-shirt.

"What about your stitches?"

"They're getting taken out in a day or two anyway, I'm sure it'll be fine."

If he's okay with it, that's good enough for him. Ghirahim shrugs, and steps closer, hands reaching around to slip behind Link and draw him up by his thighs.

Link giggles at the action. Allowing himself to be manhandled, he gasps when he's tossed onto the bed, eyes wide as Ghirahim crawls over top of him. His laugh becomes breathy, tinged with a hint of nervousness.

"Relax. We don't have to do anything you don't want to." Ghirahim whispers, tucking a stray lock of hair behind his ear. He leans down to kiss him, savoring the whine he gets when he draws his hand down Link's clothed chest. "Deep breaths, remember that. I won't lie and tell you it doesn't hurt at first."

At the edge of his shirt, he pulls back from the kiss, chuckling against Link's lips when his partner gives him a sweet moan, his hips bucking against Ghirahim's hand. Slipping under the shirt, he draws out the touch, gentle and light and teasing as it inches beneath his clothes.

He's met with a sticky wet feeling.

"Did you—seriously— _already?_ " He stammers, thoroughly confused, but when he draws his hand back, he sees the culprit. 

Red. Runny, liquid, staining his finger tips and highlighting all the lines of his hands. Shit.

"Why'd you stop?" Link whines, but he freezes when Ghirahim sits back, hand held up.

"You were saying?"

Link groans, falling back onto the bed. There's already a weak spot forming where his wound was, seeping through his clothes.

" _Fuck._ I didn't even feel that." He complains, stretching his arms up to push his hair out of his face in a way that surely only makes more stitches pop. "That complicates things a bit."

It does. Ghirahim slides off the bed, already heading for the first aid kit. 

"Back to the hospital."

"Back to the hospital." Link sighs in agreement.

"When you finally heal, I'm going to make you _pay_ for every inconvenience you've caused me over the past few days."

"Mmm, you'd better."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continued on Day 17: [I Did Not See That Coming](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26235385/chapters/66028783).


	15. Is Something Burning?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brand ~~ing~~ | ~~Heat Exhaustion~~ | Fire
> 
> ANOTHER Eldin volcano chapter I'm making up for mostly ignoring it when I made my ss rewrite
> 
> Despite having this set in canon it's not connected to the other two in this series of prompts

"You know we can't do this anymore."

"I do."

It doesn't stop him. Link lets Ghirahim pull him close, comforting despite the heat of Eldin, and he tries to forget where he is.

It's hard. The air here is always thick, only made worse from the volcanic eruption, and it's horribly hot, even without his clothes. The ground is harsh, rocks digging into his side, knees scraped and bruised from earlier activities. Link takes a deep breath.

"This is it, I promise. Next time I see you, if I see you again, I won't... I don't want to do this. This was our last time." He convinces himself more than the demon, knowing the other has already moved on. It was never about him, anyway, just about mutually releasing stress and anger.

"But... one, one more night. Please." Link mumbles, face pressed into heated skin, pleading for something he can't have.

Ghirahim only sighs. He doesn't deny Link this, but with no answer, Link pulls back. He stares at the ceiling, what should be stars, and ignores the tears pricking his eyes. 

The demon rolls away, sitting up. That was it, then. It's over.

Link waits another beat, listening for the sound of the cell door opening, but it doesn't come. Ghirahim is still sitting there, silent in the soft glow of Eldin at night.

It was a mistake to get with him at all, Link thinks. It was wrong to lead each other on, to pretend they could have ever had more. His eyes trace the smooth planes and down the demon's spine, realizing Ghirahim has never had his bare back turned to him before.

The light may be dim, but he can still see the faint outline, the difference in color, of a strange mark between Ghirahim's shoulder blades. It's in a place that's always been covered by his mantle, or Link has been much more focused on what's going on in front. He's not seen this before. 

Curious, he raises slightly, propping himself up on his also scratched elbows. It's a triforce, that's easy enough to recognize, but it's upside down. He inches closer.

He's sure Ghirahim knows he's there, not being very subtle as he crawls over and sits behind him. He's wary, but this mark has caught his attention. He bears a similar, less ornate pattern on his hand, gifted by the goddess.

"What's this?" He whispers, fingers tracing the mauled skin. He expected it to be a tattoo, like the mark on his face, but it's more of a scar.

He pulls his hand back when Ghirahim's shoulders fall, curling in on himself. The silence is deafening, and though they're enemies and he shouldn't care, Link worries he's offended the demon.

"I've told you before, I am unbreakably bound to serve Demise."

Link glances down at the mark on his hand. Each triangle is only an empty place holder, waiting for him to collect the pieces and unlock the power of the goddesses. He doesn't like to think about it.

"So this... connects you to him?" He asks, tracing the thin lines decorating the outside, tracing down his spine. It doesn't feel like magic. At first, Ghirahim tenses, but under Link's touch, he begins to relax, letting the knight's hands wander.

"Not exactly." He sounds pained, recalling memories he doesn't wish to recount. But in his eyes, Link is already dead, so the stakes are low.

"It looks like it hurt." Link murmurs, drawing back as Ghirahim turns around.

"The flames of the forge often do." 

"Wait, you don't mean..." Link's eyes go wide, his mouth falling open slightly, "it's not... he did this to you?"

Ghirahim sits straighter. There's a steel behind his eyes, a cold tone to his voice as he clarifies, "I let him. To prove my loyalty to my master. He can't force me to do anything I don't want to."

It sounds more like he's telling himself than Link, a mantra he's repeated for years to cope with what Demise has done to him.

Link should hate him. He should want to fight him, to see him defeated along with the evil he's sworn against, but he can't, not really. His heart hurts for him, he wishes there was a way out. He knows its showing in his expression.

"Your pity is misplaced." Ghirahim judges, a self protecting snarl to hide this vulnerability. "Give me your hand."

Link panics for a moment, worried that even in the dark Ghirahim has seen the empty Triforce and knows Link can't defeat Demise right now. He had done so well to keep it hidden, it would be a shame to ruin this now. 

Hesitantly offering his left, Ghirahim does not accept.

"The one with the mark of the goddesses, Link."

"You know about it?" He whispers, tucking his hand against his chest. Ghirahim reaches for it anyway, pulling it towards him with the palm faced down.

"Yes. But I'll ignore it for now."

Running his thumb along the knuckles, avoiding the mark itself, Ghirahim argues, "How is this any different? You bear her mark as well. It burns, doesn't it?"

Not anymore, Link thinks, but it did. The flames from the sword licked at his skin, another seal of his fate as the Chosen Hero. 

"It burns with holy energy. Every time you find another piece, the burn returns, just as bad as the first time, if not _worse_. This places her mark not only on your body, but your soul. You are no more free than I am."

Link doesn't have any of the pieces yet. He doesn't let Ghirahim know this, but his worries are made worse by this knowledge. Shaking his head slowly, he denies the accusation, but deep down, he knows it to be true.

"At least Demise was not so cruel as to make me suffer more than once."

Squeezing his hand, Ghirahim sighs again. 

"I'll stay, Link. Just this once." 

It has always been 'just this once', and that's what Link is afraid of. But he's the one who asked, and he's certainly not complaining about one more night with Ghirahim. He smiles, ignoring the sick feeling in his stomach from Ghirahim's revelation, and shifts until he is cuddling a demon who wants nothing more than his death.

At least, that's what he says. Link may not be the only one who has developed more feelings than he should.


	16. Into the Unknown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Possession | Magical Healing | Science Gone Wrong
> 
> Modern Fantasy

He was dying. That was what happened to those chosen by the goddess.

Their legends say that once, long ago, those given the mark of the triforce were heroes, princesses, kings. They fought for the balance of the world, protecting the triforce from the evil that sought to destroy it. But they were inflicted with a curse, and in a world that no longer needed monarchies and champions, those given the goddesses' blessing were destined to die.

It wasn't escapable. Link had been given every treatment, experimented on in search of a cure that maybe he wouldn't live to use, but someday, somewhere down the line, someone would survive Hylia's Kiss, Farore's Sickness, Din's Disorder or Nayru's Light or whatever other name they thought of to distract from the fact that "fate" was eating away at his life.

No one believed in magic anymore. They told him what he had wasn't a blessing or a curse, just a cancer that needed to be dealt with. He was sick, and all the nice doctors from all over the world were just trying to help him.

That was a lie. This only affected three people in every generation, three out of millions. There were so many other tragedies they should be tunneling their money into, helping to fix the problems of the many and not the unlucky few. He was nothing more than a lab rat.

There was part of him that believed them. That this could be fixed with science, that one day no one else would wake up and find themselves destined to fight a war already lost. Even then, the problem with the mark was the memories.

No one believed them when they explained it. When they were kids, the past lives were just imaginary, made up stories created to deal with the misinformation spread about what was affecting them. As they grew older, the memories turned to hallucinations, a whole list of mental disorders they used to explain what couldn't possibly be true. Eventually he just stopped talking about them. He stopped speaking at all.

Link knew better. Zelda knew better, Ganon knew better, from the way they would whisper to each other the painful secrets from across hospital rooms, confirming they too were reliving the same lives in their dreams. They knew what was hurting them was magic, and no one would listen. 

So Link started reading. He looked into every book of the legend, scored the internet and countless conspiracy forums, trying to find some clue as to how to fix this the way it was meant to be. He fell the the darkest corners of the web, numbed from violence and corruption by the lives his soul had already lived, and he found hope.

 _I'm sneaking out._ He wrote in his notebook, the easiest way to communicate with the others for him. _I met someone. They say they have the ancient sword. The Master Sword._

Zelda scooted closer on the hospital bed to read the scribbled writing. Her face filled with worry, but she didn't stop him.

At this point, none of the three would prevent the other from the risks they took. They all wanted out, even if it meant they cut their lives short.

"Oh, Link. Please be careful."

_What's the worst that could happen. I die?_

"You could mess things up for us." Ganon joked, taking the notepad and handing back to Link, "We'd get stuck with a new baby a few years down the line. I hear they're not all that fun to talk to."

Link smiled, a gentle laugh escaping his lips. Accepting the notebook, he tucked in into a bag, flinging it over his shoulder and heading for the door. 

With a series of well practiced hand motions, ones they all knew by now, Link signed, _cover for me?_ , knowing the other two wouldn't deny his request.

"Yeah. Get outta here, find your sword. Maybe you can finally put me out of my misery." His friend grinned at him, waving him off. Zelda stayed silent, but she nodded in agreement. 

Link let the door shut behind him.

* * *

He had only been behind the hospital twice, doing stupid things as a teenager he foolishly got caught for, but this time felt different. There was something in the air, some sinister and foreboding feeling that was yelling at him to get out and get away. He ignored it.

Again, worst that could happen.

Link checked his watch. He had fifteen minutes before he had to be back in his room, hooked back up into the dozens of machines and IVs and scanners in some silly attempt to curb the spread of the disease. They were supposed to be here already.

He jumped when a loud crash and the sound of trash cans falling over filled the narrow alley, head jerking towards the door. He couldn't get caught now.

Several colorful swears, and a lean figure stumbled from behind the dumpster, nearly off balance from the sword they held in their hand. They were dressed to remain anonymous, head covered by a black hoodie and a mask with an odd symbol concealing their face.

"Fucking—can't wait to be rid of this bitch of a— _OW_ what the **_fuck!_** " They complained, nearly dropping the sword in the process. When they noticed Link, they froze, blade held out as the deep red metal caught the moonlight.

"Show me your hand." The stranger demanded, keeping the sword out of reach. They were harsh, stance tense and they looked ready to fight.

Link pulled back the sleeve of his own green sweatshirt. The mark of the Triforce gave off a soft golden glow, more prominent than usual. It must have been the proximity to the Master Sword. 

"Well then," His confidant drawled, threats and swears turning to smooth talk, "it's a pleasure to meet you, chosen hero, sir. I'm glad you made it to this arrangement."

Link didn't answer, and kept his face emotionless. He didn't trust them. 

Holding out his hand, he waited for them to give him the sword.

"Of course, of course! You're here for the Sword that Seals the Darkness, the Blade of Evil's Bane, the Master Sword. Now, I'll warn you, it does come with a pretty steep price."

Link sighed. He knew this would happen. Letting his hand fall, he turned back to the hospital exit. 

"Oh, no! Not like that! What I mean is, you want to unlock the true power in the sword, don't you?" The stranger pleaded, stopping Link from leaving. He paused, waiting for them to continue.

"They say," He began, whispering it as if a secret no one else should hear, "A spirit inhabits this blade. A voice that only speaks to the hero. You gotta wake it up, you hear? Let it possess it again, allow it to return after millennia of disuse. It's in here somewhere, waiting for you."

Link considered it. Turning back, he narrowed his eyes in question.

"Just a simple resurrection-type thing, a summoning spell sorta deal. All you gotta do is give it blood, preferably your own. Scratch that, it _has_ to be your own, it needs you to bleed until you think you can't anymore. Sacrifice yourself to it, like. You wanna get fancy you can do the thing with the candles and the inverted triforce of blood on the ground, but that's not necessary. Let it wake, and it'll find its true master." The stranger looked up, and though their face was hidden, he could here the panic in their voice. "Uh, that's you, of course. It'll find you."

It was suspicious. Dangerous, he knew, but it gave his boring life some excitement. Accepting the dark blade, Link took the hilt, feeling the mark on his hand burn as it lit up with the glow. It was more of a reaction than anything the doctors had done to him.

"Pleasure doin' business with you." The stranger bowed, stepping back into the shadows. "And if ever you need help bringing about—I mean, stopping, you know—the armageddon, call on the Yiga again."

* * *

Back in his room, Link hid the sword under his cot, tucking it under the straps holding the mattress in place. As soon as the nighttime routine was over, he could bring it out and do what the stranger told him to.

The night was dark, little moonlight and a solid cloud cover. The curtains to his room were drawn, the only light sneaing in from the hallway. Listening for the sound of anyone walking by, Link waited until he was truly alone.

Over the years, he had gotten pretty good at faking the machines, hacking them so he could have some freedom without being caught. Zelda and Ganon had always been a big help, but tonight, he was on his own. 

Picking the sword from under the bed, Link finally got a good look at it. It was nothing like the pictures in their fantasy books, the stained glass in the tourist trap temples and ancient paintings. It felt vaguely familiar, but Link had so many memories he couldn't place it. 

He took a deep breath. This thing needed blood, but he had to be careful how he gave it. Constantly monitored, the last thing he needed was an additional psych check added to his record. 

He settled on his hip, pulling the edge over the skin just under his waistband, watching a thin pink line form. It didn't bleed until he pressed, barely any getting on the blade. Somehow, he felt like the stranger had been lying when they said it needed much.

The mark on his hand glowed again, washing the blade with its light. He finally got a good look at it, the red, almost black metal, spiked handle and twisting inscriptions, the odd shape of the blade jutting out in places that made it look awkward as a sword but certainly deadly, points made to catch on bones as pull when drawn out. It was dark, dangerous, and waking up.

He wasn't sure when he realized this wasn't the Master Sword. But watching the metal glow, like running lava up to the gem, Link began to panic a little. This was... this was magic. This was real. This was more real than any of the science he had been forced to accept, more proof than any test had yielded. He had no idea how to control it.

It seemed to take forever for the spirit to reform, the blade glowing and humming with real magic. At the foot of the bed, a tall, somewhat masculine figure was forming, a black shape that occasionally gave Link glimpses of white patterns. 

The spirit fully reformed in a flash of diamonds. Link jerked back, pulling his legs close to his body as he curled near the head board. He watched the door in horror, afraid someone would have seen that, but no one came.

His attention turned to the spirt... if he could call it that. The man standing in front of him looked nothing like the figure that had been forming, more like the villains he had faced in past lives. He still couldn't place them, but something said "demon".

They took a deep breath, opening their eyes for the first time in centuries. Confused as their eyes wandered the room, their gaze locked onto Link, expression souring.

"You've got to be kidding me."

Link raised his eyebrows, not understanding at all.

"Thousands of years of waiting, and _you're_ the one who wakes my blade? I barely made it out alive the first time, what fresh hell has Hylia concocted for me?" They moaned, dramatically bringing a hand to their forehead as they let their head fall back. "I said I was sorry! For both times! What did I do to deserve _this_ "

Link only watched their anguished display with confusion, inching toward the blade on his bed. His hand was about the grab it, when the demon's attention was back on him, and he retracted his hand back faster than he thought possible.

"So what's it this time? Princess need to be saved? Portal to an alternate world need to be closed?" They sighed, accepting their fate. Link blinked in response.

"Oh don't tell me—you're one of the ones who don't talk. At least you don't have an annoying fairy companion. Small mercies, I suppose."

Link tilted his head. They were making some sense, as he searched the memories of countless lives, but he still couldn't remember where they were from.

"Well, if that's how it is. At least tell me you're skilled in swordsman ship, I am not going to play the role of trial-by-fire teacher again."

Link slowly shook his head. He cautiously reached for his notebook, eyes on the spirit, as he wrote out what was happening.

_Sick. Not a fighter. Haven't been for many reincarnations._

They read his words with a scowl, thrusting the book back into his hands with a sigh. 

"Demise, help me now. This is going to be worse than resting in the blade."

Link pursed his lips, writing out more. 

_I think I know you. I don't know how, exactly, but you're familiar._ He paused, his eyes lighting up in realization. _Ghirahim._

When the notebook was handed back, the spirit scoffed. "Well, it seems there may be something worth sticking around for. You have their memories?"

Link nodded. Taking his book back, he wrote, _All of them, just not all the time. My friends have them as well._

Ghirahim smirked as he read Link's words. "All of them, huh? I wonder how it is you go about unlocking them?"

Link blushed. He didn't know why, but this was more familiar than anything. 

_I want. . . to know more. About. . . the cycle._ Link scribbled, writing upside down from years of practice. _Being. . . around you is helping. . . I think._

He paused, mind racing. He was met with images of birds, massive birds flying, a land in the sky, a monster ten times his size with a gaping maw of teeth that threatened to swallow him whole.

Some of the earliest memories he had.

 _I know. . . you._ He continued to write, still awkwardly doing so from this uncomfortable angle. Ghirahim did not give him back the notebook, but at least he was still 'listening'.

_The ~~first~~ second? hero. He knew you._

"You look like him." The spirit murmured. His gaze was one of pained nostalgia, recalling his own memories. Beginning to write out _so you remember me, too?_ , Link was interrupted.

Ghirahim slammed the book closed on Link's pen. "That's enough for tonight. I'm sure this has tired you out, the process of reforming sapped nearly all _my_ energy." Shoving the notepad back into his hands, he sank onto the bed with a sigh.

"We can deal with this in the morning. It looks as if I'm stuck with you once more."

Eyes dropping with need to sleep, Link agreed. He watched as the spirit vanished back into the blade, only leaving a faint hint of diamonds in the air.

* * *

Link was asleep when Ghirahim appeared again. The demon stood over his bed, watching the hero as his body rose and fell with each breath, so full of life for someone claiming to be dying.

"The goddesses really are so cruel to do this to me again." He whispered to himself, an unsaid denouncement of them on his lips. He didn't need to get into anymore trouble.

With a sigh, he placed his hand on Link's hair, brushing back the soft locks. Even in the dark, he had seen the similarities to his first Link. These two had the same eyes.

"You're in there somewhere, skychild." 

His touch slipped to Link's cheek, rubbing at the light freckles that dotted across to the bridge of his nose.

"I hope it's not too late to remember."


	17. A Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forced to Beg | Hallucination | Shoot The Hostage
> 
> Canon Divergent/Slight change to a canon setting

There had been three silent realms so far, to test his courage and temper his soul. When he did those, he thought this was still all for Zelda.

Link knew better now. 

Staring out at the silvery world of a changed Skyloft, he knew this was just another part of the puzzle Hylia had scattered, her grand plan to fix the mistakes of years past. Link didn't mind being chosen, he would do anything to protect the ones he loved. That was why he became a knight in the first place. Besides, it was a little exciting, being Hylia's Chosen Hero, even if he had no idea what he was doing (and so many wanted to remind him of that).

He just wished she had been up front about it. He didn't like the secrecy, the way Zelda broke down in tears when she told him of her—Hylia's—memories. Link didn't blame her. She may have had the blood of a goddess, but she would always be his Zelda.

And that was why he was here. To get his Zelda back. His best friend. He took a deep breath, ready to sprint for the last tear.

As the world turned red around him, he counted down the seconds he had until he was caught. He was so close, he just needed to reach out and—

Got it. Last tear, last silent realm, last time he had to do this.

Link sighed in relief, letting the Sacred Tear go to fill the vine by the exit. He waited for the world around him to disappear, sending him home.

It didn't happen.

_You have done so well, my hero._

Link jumped at the voice, an all encompassing echo like when Fi first explain what he was sent here to do. This wasn't her, though, it sounded different. He was sure he had heard their voice before.

_I'm so proud of you, Link. I'm sorry, but I just have to ask one more trial of you._

Link watched as his body began to fade, the blue light overpowering him as it did when he left the silent realms. He waited for Skyloft to appear again.

It didn't. He found himself in the Sealed Grounds, still bathed in the eerie blue light, standing in front of the Imprisoned's Spike. 

_This is for the best. I don't mean to offend you, dear hero, but I need to know you will make the right choice when the time comes._

Link was confused. 

"H-Hylia?" He whispered into the air, not sure if he wanted the answer.

_Yes, dear chosen. Do not fret, you have not failed me. I only wish to confirm your loyalty._

Link blinked as a replica of the Master Sword formed in his hand, the same silvery blue as the tears. The blade glowed in front of him, illuminating the dark Sealed Grounds to a sight that made him gasp. Ghirahim had Zelda, she was unconscious but in pain, floating frozen under a spell. He too was still, hands outstretched in an unfinished spell.

_I only need to know you will make the right decision. Kill the demon for me._

Link hesitated. He knew this was how it would end between them, but he wasn't. . . he didn't _want_ to kill Ghirahim, that was the point of using the Triforce, wasn't it? To get rid of Demise without causing more death? 

"I don't see how this..." Link mumbled, torn as he held up the blade. "I. . . I don't think he's completely. . ." He wasn't sure what he was arguing. He wanted to save Zelda. He was here to save Zelda. He loved Zelda. Any past he had with Ghirahim didn't matter.

_Oh, hero . . . I know you see the good in everyone, it is one of your most defining qualities. But I need you to do this for me. Demons are unredeemable._

"Not... not exactly..." Link argued still, recalling how he had become sidetracked and helped Batreaux, but this was _Ghirahim_. No, it wasn't even Ghirahim, it was Hylia's fake Ghirahim, testing his loyalty to her. Why was he resisting?

Stepping out of the circle, he watched the world turn red, but neither Ghirahim nor Zelda moved. He inched forward, wary of causing some reaction, but none came. Sword raised, he winced, pointing it at the unarmed demon.

"I... this doesn't feel right, I'm sorry." He frowned, letting his sword fall. He couldn't fight him like this, even if Ghirahim wasn't real. He couldn't kill an unarmed, frozen enemy that wasn't fighting back.

That must have been the test. Hylia must have been testing his honor as a knight, right? She wouldn't really think he was too far gone to save, so horrible he deserved to be killed like this, even if it was in a fake world.

Zelda's empty eyes blinked open.

"Don't you love me, Link?"

"Yes, but I didn't want to—"

"Didn't you come to save me?

He whined an answer, not knowing how to fight this. He wanted to do right by Hylia. Zelda. He wanted to save Zelda. He was doing this because he loved Ghir—Zelda. He loved Zelda.

"Yes, Zelda, but I'm not—I'm not going to kill—please don't make me—"

"I have to be sure you'll make the right decision when it's time. Kill him. Now." She snapped, colder than he had ever heard "Get him out of the way. Cut off his life force in the Silent Realm, and never deal with him again in the realm of the living. It's what the gods want."

"This isn't—this isn't real?"

"I can manipulate the strings of fate anyway I want. I am a goddess."

Link staggered back.

"Then why—no! Okay, no, not if this will _actually_ kill him, I won't—that's not fair, this isn't even a fight, it's a dirty trick to use, he's let me live after defeating me, I can't do this. . ." Link stuttered excuses, horrified his goddess would even suggest such a thing. Zelda would never have told him to do this. 

"You think he wouldn't do the same to you?"

Link shook his head, denying the hypothetical, though he knew the fear of the thought flashed in his eyes. Letting go of the sword of light, he stepped back, breathing heavily as he made his final choice.

"I won't do this. It's not right."

The empty eyes of Silent-Realm Zelda fell shut. She drifted back to the ground, her white dress in the eerie light like that of a ghost, and she looked more like a goddess than ever. Not his Zelda.

"This is what I was afraid of, Link." Zelda sighed, cupping his face with her cold hand. His heart beat faster, terrified he had made the wrong decision. 

"I know now you are truly pure hearted, the only one capable of using the Triforce only for good."

Her glossy eyes filled with fake tears, holding onto him as if she was losing him forever as he faded with the Silent Realm.

"At what cost? I know now where your heart truly lies."

As Zelda and the Silent Sealed Grounds faded from view, Link heard her whispers one last time,

"I'm sorry, my hero, for all I've put you through."


	18. I Did Not See That Coming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blackmail | Dirty Secret | Wrongfully Accused
> 
> Continuation of the [College AU](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26235385/chapters/65485339).  
> I have no idea how the police/justice system works and I hope to never have to find out so Hyrule's got their own thing going on. Don't look to far into it.

Link is in his apartment again (and Ghirahim is thinking about how someday he may say "their apartment", but that's not important), papers scattered all over his kitchen table. He's been here all day, finally met the nocturnal roommate, and Ghirahim's been helping him navigate the incredibly convoluted process to get justice for his injury.

Or revenge. Ghirahim's thinking this will be more of a revenge rather than justice situation, given the hoops they're having to jump through.

Link is dead set on trying, at least, but all the phone calls and documents of grievances are getting him nowhere. He's at his limit.

"I can't do this. How does anyone do this?" He groans, pushing away the second declaration of evidence form he's had to fill out, in addition to telling two separate knights from Hyrule's law enforcement what happened. For a knight-in-training, Ghirahim would think he should know this.

"They don't teach us this shit. We get, like, sword fighting and de-escalation training, not fucking... secretary side jobs. I'm trying to get into the Royal Guard program, not deal with personal disputes. I have no fucking clue." He sighs, banging his head against the table. He stays down, crossing his arms under his head.

"No one's going to read this anyway. I don't have enough evidence." 

"You were _stabbed,_ how is that not enough evidence?" Ghirahim asks incredoulsy. He's never been one to look for outside help in personal problems, more of a fight it out himself type of person. A lot of trouble in Hyrule is dealt with that way.

"No one saw it but me and her. My word against hers, and she's definitely got some cop friends on her side."

Ghirahim's getting more agitated. He knows Cia is a low-life mobster wannabe, but when he got caught in her web, she wasn't working with the so called 'good guys'. Standing from the table, he paces across the small room, feeling trapped in the confines of the apartment.

"So we take the fight to her. She won't back from a direct challenge, and as far as I'm concerned it's legal if no one finds out."

Link makes a noise of disagreement, sitting up to look back at him.

"Ghirahim, I can't. I'm trying to get in knight school, and not just any, the _Royal Academy,_ if anything gets on my record..."

"So **I** will fight her. I have some... I wouldn't say friends, but others who would love a chance to get a hit in. You don't have to deal with this anymore."

Link is silent. He doesn't even deny the offer. Concerned, Ghirahim turns back to see Link staring out the window, lost in thought.

"Link?" He walks up behind him, hands resting on the back of his chair. His boyfriend doesn't respond to his presence.

"What's wrong?"

Link's shoulders drop, a deep sigh of regret. Ghirahim is very worried now, pulling out the chair next to him so he can listen.

"She's been... she's been texting me." He begins, pulling out his phone and punching in the numbers. "Telling me if I try anything other than this, she will ruin my life. And she can."

Handing the phone to Ghirahim, he lets him scroll through a sea of blue and grey messages.

"At first it was just—she was just going to spread rumours about me, you know, stupid 'dirty secrets' that aren't true. I don't care, the people I care about know that's not me, and honestly I don't think people who know me would believe her lies anyway. Some of her threats were, uh, way too creative."

Ghirahim sneers in disgust at an earlier message, something that absolutely sounds like a fantasy Cia would make up.

"I don't care. She can call me a slut all she wants, say I was a bad boyfriend even though we were never really together... but then she started threatening my chance of getting into school."

Link isn't looking at Ghirahim, eyes downcast at the paperwork, tears threatening to spill. 

"This is the only way. I'm... I'm scared she'll take it further. She's made vague threats of hurting my friends if I don't drop this, but right now she's allowing me to do this much."

Sighing, Ghirahim shuts off the cell phone. "Link, I'm sorry. You shouldn't have to deal with this alone."

Link shakes his head, a choked sob getting caught in his throat.

"No, that's what she wants. I have to do this alone, no one else can get hurt."

Ghirahim is angry. He's been angry, but now he's _furious. **Outraged.**_ Cia has always been skilled at manipulating those she wants under her power, made him do some things he's not proud of... and he'll do them again. For Link.

"Look at me." Ghirahim orders, reaching for Link's hand. "You're not doing this alone. You don't even have to get involved with this anymore. Fill out your forms, do what you need to do to secure your reputation, but leave her be. Block her number, whatever it takes. I've got this covered."

Link whines in protest, taking Ghirahim's hand and squeezing it, hard. "No, you don't have to... you _can't_ , she'll hurt you..."

"Nothing worse than she's done before." Ghirahim takes a deep breath, avoiding Link's eyes. "I'm sure you've heard the rumors about my past. And I'm sure most of what you've heard about me is true, even if you ignore it. I'm assuming that's why you're still here; you don't believe it. I got tangled up with some people I didn't want to get involved with again—until now. Revenge is a common goal that works wonders."

His words are vague, not openly suggesting anything. The less Link knows the safer he is, the better protected his chances of a future are. Still, he's not going to do anything if Link doesn't want him to.

"I need to know if you will let me do this. If it makes you feel better, it's not just about you. I've been waiting for a chance to get back at Cia for years, and if I play this right, she'll never know this isn't about me and her."

Link doesn't outright deny him. He looks from the paperwork to their clasped hands, catching his breath as he calms himself down. Ghirahim gives him all the time he needs.

"I don't know. I'll think about it." He concedes, and it's not a refusal, so Ghirahim takes what he can get. He gently wraps an arm around Link's shoulder, letting the knight come to him if he wants. Link does, leaning into the embrace.

"I'm sorry for dragging you into this." Link whispers, wiping away his tears. Ghirahim scoffs, a soft smile coming back.

"Don't be. Life was getting boring here, anyway. You think I want to stay inside and study all day? You make things exciting." Guiding him to the couch, Ghirahim pulls him down to comfort him, distracting him from the work he's been busy with all day.

"Forget about it for now. C'mon, you've been here all day but I feel like I've barely spent any time with you. I'll pirate a movie, or, if you want, we can use your Netflix account," Ghirahim rolls his eyes, still amazed Link is paying for that when you can find anything on the internet for free (if you know where to look), "You can spend the night. I'll text Zant to warn him now, not that he's even coming back for the night anyway."

Tucking a finger under his chin, Ghirahim lifts Link's gaze to his, glad to see the tears have dried. "So, what do you say? Netflix?"

"Just Netflix?" Link grins, biting at his lip as he pushes himself up on his arms. "I can think of a few other things we could do at the same time."

Ghirahim raises an eyebrow and feigns ignorance. "Oh? Like what?"

Ah, that does it. Link blushes, light pink creeping onto his freckled cheeks, and he tilts his head away. 

"Just... other... things, you know." He murmurs, leaning in close again. His lips brush against his boyfriend's. "I'm sure you can think you something too."

"Other things, in general? Or specifically with you? I do have some homework I should get started on..."

Link laughs, a small, breathy exhale, and he rests his forehead against Ghirahim's, eyes falling shut.

"You can do whatever you want, as long as it's with me. . ."

"Whatever I want?" Ghirahim teases, his lips ghosting over Link's.

"Mmhmm."

"Good. Because I am going to. . ."

In a graceful motion, he's off the couch, Link in his arms. The knight's eyes fly open, surprised at being handled this way.

"Make you take care of yourself. Have you even eaten today? Drank water?"

Link gives him an indignant scoff, wrapping his arms around Ghirahim's shoulders. He acts annoyed, but as he tucks his head against Ghirahim's neck, he's smiling.

"Yeah, like, in the morning." He co-operates as Ghirahim sets him back on the kitchen table.

"Too long ago. I'll order takeout." Pulling up the menus on his phone, Ghirahim adds, "We'll try Netflix first, but if we don't find anything we can agree on, I'm not paying for something."

Link huffs and crosses his arms, but he doesn't disagree. Gently kicking at Ghirahim's shins, he asks, "And is that all you'll do?"

"Your stitches."

"They've already been taken out." Link remarks, but it's not argumentative. He's not given up, but he's caught onto the hint that Ghirahim isn't up for everything he wants. Ghirahim knows he'll be fine with what he still has to offer. 

"Not tonight." 

He sighs, placing a hand on Link's thigh as he holds up the digital menu to their favorite take out place. Link gratefully accepts. 

"But soon. I promise."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The good news is there is one more prompt that fits this AU and they will get a conclusion. the bad news is it's not until, like, day 30
> 
> Update: It's [Day 29, I Think I Need A Doctor](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26235385/chapters/66591901)


	19. Panic! at the Disco

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Panic Attacks | ~~Phobias~~ | ~~Paranoia~~
> 
> Content warning: not very graphic panic attack caused by a trigger
> 
> Post game master/sword AU

They're getting by. It's hard, but they're getting by. 

It's too soon to say just how much their past has affected them, but it's there. Link flinches at every snap. He's very uncomfortable when someone walks up behind him and he doesn't realize they're there. He still has nightmares, not as vivid as the goddess given visions, but worse. These are memories, memories warped and corrupted into what-ifs and gone-wrongs.

Ghirahim is better at hiding it. Every request Link gives him hurts, a pain that runs deeper than the shame of losing to him. Even when accompanied with soft 'please's and 'thank you's, they're still orders, still reminders that he has no say in what happens to him.

Link has scars he hides. He wears gloves all the time, goes as far as to wrap his sword hand when he can't, keeping the mark of the goddess at bay. He can't hide the lightning strikes, the cracking patterns down the side of his face, and Ghirahim knows they creep down to his calves in scattered patterns from times he was hit. He only ever undresses in the dark.

Ghirahim hides too. It's easier for him, to put on a fake exterior and keep away the stares, the questions and sideways glances. His true form bears the weight of his mistakes, the cracked gem and dented limbs, every nick and break and rust his sword built up over the years. He keeps it hidden, as he always has, and vows to never let Link see such a vulnerable part again.

Link isn't Demise, he tells himself, and he knows Link repeats the same words with Ghirahim in his head. They aren't the sum of their mistakes, the wincing at unexpected touches, but it's there, building up as they skirt around the damage they've dealt each other.

It's bound to explode, he knows. It's bound to fester and grow, an infection spreading from their bodies to their brains unless they suck it up and _talk_ about it, but he's too proud to say anything, to stubborn to ask for help. Link is too scared to ruin things.

He secretly hopes Link will break first. That it will be Link who snaps, bent too far to keep strong, and they can build back up from there. Unfortunately for him, that's not the case.

It's seemingly the simplest of things that breaks him, sends him closing himself off and shutting Link out.

He never really explained to Link how the sword spirit and master bond worked, and he's kicking himself for that. Link needs help, it's as little as hanging a picture in their shared home, and Ghirahim lets it go to far.

"Pass me that hammer." He asks, and Ghirahim feels the call to action. He could try and fight it, but he doesn't want to, he doesn't need to. "Hold this." Link demands, concentrating as he tries to level the painting.

It's a build up of orders Ghirahim keeps telling himself he doesn't have to deny, that it's fine to obey and give in, he doesn't have to fight Link on this. Link isn't even trying to be controlling, he's just caught up in getting this done. 

Link teeters on the ladder, eyes going wide as he tries to balance again. When he's sure he's fine, he laughs, his bubbly, gentle laughter, but his next teasing sentences send Ghirahim into a spiral of memories.

"Oh Hylia, my life flashed before my eyes. I could have died! And then what would you do? You'd be lost with out me."

_You would be lost without me._

"You'd catch me if I fell, right?"

_If I fall, you will raise me._

Ghirahim is frozen, knuckles white as he grips the ladder. He's not sure what's he's more scared of: the memories of Demise, or the memories of losing him. He can't lose Link like he did him.

"Ghirahim..?" Link is asking, leaning over the edge again, having learned nothing. "What's wrong?"

He says nothing, steadying his breathing as he tries to ignore Link. _Pull yourself together_ , he's thinking, admonishing his weakness, _Don't show weakness. Don't show vulnerability._

"Ghirahim, tell me what's wrong." Link gently coaxes, but the way it's worded as an order is enough to send Ghirahim into a full out panic. He's gone the next second, retreating to his blade.

"Ghirahim!" His hero yells, but he's blocking himself off. He's protecting himself the only way he knows how.

He needs to be alone, but he doesn't need to be alone, but he needs to be _by himself_. It makes sense and it doesn't. 

Link is by his side, crouching down by the discarded blade. He's worried, but used to outbursts by now, so he accepts this and sits by his side in silence.

Eventually, Link grows restless, and he sighs. "Look, I don't know what's going on, but if you don't want to talk to me right now, that's fine." He stands up to leave, a hand brushing over the blade in parting.

A chime.

_Don't go._

He hopes Link understands. 

Link huffs, confused by the mixed signals, but he's patient, sitting back down to just be there when Ghirahim is ready to talk. 

And eventually, he will. He'll have to, he owes Link that at least. They'll dust off the skeletons in the closet, and finally deal with what they should have at the start.

But for now, he's grateful to have Link by his side.


	20. Broken Hearts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Grief | Mourning Loved One | Survivor's Guilt 
> 
> Y'all I'm so sorry  
> one, it's short, two, the prompts  
> Post Game Canon Compliant

Winter on the surface reminded Link of him.

In the months after he finally ended it, they made the brave leap into the new world below. With the blessing of the goddess, they made the move to the surface, and Link was kept busy. He and Zelda thought they would never see rest.

But then the snow came, covering the world in an icy sheet, and they found themselves trapped inside. There wasn't much to do but pour over books, idly start and discard carvings he never intended to be good, and watch as he fell into memories he didn't want to remember.

It was always when it snowed, staring out the window as the world turned white and cold.

White like honeyed lips, dripping with threats disguised as advice. Cold like dark eyes, filled with anger as they realized they were in too deep.

He knew it would end the way it had. He knew there was no escaping their fate, that for one to meet their goal, the other had to fall. And fall, they did. They both fell, they both lost, there was no winner when to came to war.

Link should have been happy, he thought, staring out the window as tiny specks of ice danced across the sky, like the diamonds that faded and fell with him. He should have been relived, grateful, celebrating his win. He triumphed over evil, fulfilling the purpose his soul's first incarnation gave everything to achieve; he saved his friend and brought everyone home safe.

No.

Not everyone.

Even the hero couldn't save everyone.

Sometimes Link wondered what it would have been like if he had let the other win, if he had given in to the promises and listened to the diminishing. _You'll never win._

_Your attempt is adorable, but you can't defeat me._

It did no good to linger on the past. It only hurt him to dream of a star-crossed meeting, knowing this was, and always had been, the only outcome. There was never any other way, no matter the guilt that ate away at his heart, the silent thoughts of "I couldn't have saved him" and "I could have helped him". Fate was final, the passage of time binding. There was no more he could do, and it was best to move on.

But, when he found himself in front of the window again, watching the clouds grow grey and the sky frost over, he lost himself in the memories. In his lonely catharsis his mind wandered, a journey of solitude into a past he remembered with more fondness than when it took place.

Yes, Link thought, winter reminded him of Ghirahim.


	21. Toto, I have a Feeling We're Not in Kansas Anymore

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lost | Field Medicine | ~~Medieval~~
> 
> Canon setting

"You're lost."

"No! I'm just. . . I'm not sure where I am, but I know where I'm going."

"What's happened to your leg?"

"It's— _it's fine,_ look, are you here to fight me or not?" 

Link crossed his arms, wincing as he shifted his leg. Definitely broken, but Ghirahim did not need to know that.

It was just his luck the demon would find him like this, wandering through an uncharted part of the forest as he played errand boy for Faron. And of course if was right after the moment he tripped down a steep hill and crushed his potion bottles. The dark stain on the grass was not blood, but worse: his last red potion.

"No. I'm busy, I don't have time for you."

Ghirahim remarked, seeming very much so un-busy as he regarded a loose thread in his glove, standing over Link at a distance far too close for comfort. 

"I just happened to notice that you seemed to be undoing all my hard work—and not very well, at that."

Link huffed, looking away as he suppressed an eye roll. His leg throbbed, and he hoped Ghirahim would leave him alone soon. He wanted to lick his wounds in shame in the comfort of his own room.

"Yeah? Why don't you go undo what I undid, and let me continue in peace."

It was obvious Ghirahim was _not_ going to do that, by the way his face split into a sharp grin, his fangs flashing with mischief as he turned his attention back to Link. The downed knight groaned, tipping his head back onto the tree he was resting against.

"Oh, but my dear skychild, I don't seem to be what's stopped you. I only wish to _help_ , I mean, it **pains** me to see such a formidable enemy felled by such a simple malady as this."

Link had no choice but to back up against the tree as far as he could as Ghirahim leaned over him, red cape brushing against his knees. Once, the close proximity and dominating presence over him would have left Link flustered, but something about this time wasn't affecting him. At this point, he wasn't scared; the demon lord had become more of an annoyance.

"I'm fine, I told you, so leave me alone."

The demon crossed a hand over his heart (or lack thereof, Link thought) in a gesture to show he was hurt, but his disappointment was fake. Link idly bit at his lip, keeping his focus on anything but his foe in front of him.

"I'm wounded. I'm just trying to help." A deep, dramatic sigh, with Ghirahim placing a hand over his forehead and tilting his head back, flicking his hair out of his face. He rose from tormenting Link, other hand held out to snap. "Well, then, I suppose I will have to fight you."

Though he was turned, Link could tell he was smirking, the smug idiot. He sank back against the tree, sliding down until he saw the clouds drift across the sky. Oh, to be one of those clouds, head empty, no thoughts, drifting across the wide open sky. No pain, no broken bones, and no Ghirahim.

"I can't."

"What's that?"

 _"I can't!"_ Link snapped, and if he wasn't grounded, he would have lost his patience already. "I think it's broken, and I'm out of potions."

"Why didn't you just say so?" 

The demon sounded _way_ too excited, whipping back around and dropping to his knees by Link's leg. Link flinched away, tensing as he made to protect himself, but the movement sent him gasping as pain flared through his calf.

"Stay still, this will only hurt a bit."

Ghirahim set both hands on his leg, pressing down as he restrained it. It _hurt,_ , terribly so, and Link cursed as his worst enemy smiled up at him. Sickeningly sweet, so obviously fake as he squeezed Link's broken limb. Dick.

Link took a deep breath, clenching his teeth as Ghirahim whispered words he didn't understand and let his hands run over his leg. It felt like magic, the little magic he had encountered, and though it was incredibly painful, Link could tell it was doing something.

When he was finished, he drew his hand up Link's leg, resting at the knee. He paused, watching Link's reaction, before giving him a firm pat on his thigh, inching up. Link blushed, turning his gaze away as he felt his cheeks heat up.

It was dangerously intimate, his touch lingering as Link sat up. Flexing his muscles, Link couldn't deny Ghirahim had healed him, and healed him well. It didn't even ache from the day's use. 

There was silence as the demon stood up, leaving Link on his own. He seemed satisfied, ready to leave, but Link couldn't let him go.

He also couldn't admit he didn't want Ghirahim to leave, so all he managed as a strangled whine, which was at least enough to catch his attention. He turned back, brow raised as Link stuttered and flushed, looking for some excuse.

"Th-thank you, I guess, but, what—was that really—" He struggled to say, only growing more embarrassed when Ghirahim threw his head back and laughed.

"Don't think to much into this."

He was turning to leave again, but Link couldn't let him until he knew. Throwing his hand out in a 'stop' motion, he realized his mistake, his desperation too telling. He cleared his throat, avoiding eye contact when Ghirahim looked back once more.

"Why did you do it."

"Hmm?"

"Why'd you heal me?"

"Oh," he seemed surprised at the question, but pricked back up immediately, "Simple. You were harmed, left vulnerable and weak. I didn't want anything else to get to you before I did."

"You could have killed me now."

"And let you get away without a proper fight? Sorry, Link, but you're not getting out of this that easily." He scoffed, pacing back towards Link. The knight stiffened, not letting his guard down even as it became apparent Ghirahim was only there to help him back up.

"I hate to see you in pain. That I didn't inflict. It is a bit of a boost to my ego to know only I can harm such a strong fighter. Though your resilience burdens me greatly, I do enjoy the fact you can't break under anything less than my hand."

His smile was different, distant. Link couldn't tell what it meant, but it seemed to be teetering the edge of what was appropriate for enemies again. He gulped, eyes widening as Ghirahim lifted his hand to his lips.

"See you in battle, skychild. Remember, only I deserve the honor of taking your life."


	22. I Don't Feel So Well

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chronic Pain | ~~Hypothermia~~ | ~~Infection~~
> 
> Post game master/sword AU

"Ghirahim, if this gets worse... I don't know if I'll be able to hold a sword anymore."

Link rolled his shoulder, wincing as the pain flared down his arm. His dominant arm had taken a lot of damage during his final battle, from blocking blows and charging the Master Sword with lightning it wasn't made to contain. His whole arm was messed up, evident by the snaking pattern of a scar from his neck to the back of his hand, splitting the triforce mark in two.

He was worried, the way the pain would come and go (though it was more here than gone in the past few months), rendering him practically incapable of using the arm. He was slowly starting to learn to use his other hand, to wrap his brain around the way it made every thing opposite, but the problem he ran into early on was Ghirahim's sword.

"That's fine." The demon said in a way that made it seem as if, no, it really wasn't fine. "We'll worry about that when we get to it."

Ghirahim's sword was obviously not made for him. It was nearly his height, half his width, and heavier than any blade he had wielded before, besides the temporary use of Koloktos'. It demanded he use two hands, and more often than not, Link couldn't meet its requirements.

Ghirahim was restless, he could tell. He was a sword, and a sword wanted to be used. He didn't push Link anymore, after it was apparent no amount of insulting his honor and pride as a knight and master would take away the pain, but he was dissatisfied. Link felt terribly inadequate, unable to be of use to him.

He was feeling generally useless overall. The pain stopped him from doing the things he loved before the quest: from carving and flying, from helping around the bazaar and running errands for the people of Skyloft, from sparring and training with his friends. He felt broken, discarded, left behind as his classmates graduated and became real knights. He was just a forgotten relic of the past, a vessel for a spirit that had fulfilled its goddess given purpose. There was no need for him anymore.

Link swallowed hard, holding back tears. He shifted his hot pillow, adjusting it so it relived some of the pain in his shoulder, and tried to ignore his thoughts. Even with Ghirahim so close, he offered no comfort with his presence. Link felt guilty, trapping him in a life condemning him to be as useless as his master.

The tears were hard to hide, and though he tried, Ghirahim noticed still. Link sniffed once, avoiding his gaze as he turned towards the wall, good hand bunching up the blankets of his bed.

"Link, I mean it." Ghirahim sighed, sliding off his desk and pacing towards him. "If you set my blade down today and never picked it up again... I would be disappointed, but it doesn't matter."

The demon gently stroked his hair, hushing his tears with calming motions. "If you were miraculously healed tomorrow, it wouldn't matter. I'm not here simply because I am a sword in need of a master."

Link squeezed his eyes shut, dampening the flow of his tears. He hurt in more than his arm.

"I'm here because I want to be with you." Ghirahim whispered, taking his face into his hands. Kneeling beside him on the bed, the demon sword pressed his forehead to Link's, following the gesture with a soft kiss before tucking him under his chin.

"I love you, Link, whether you are my master or not. I love you for more than what you can do for me. You taught me I am worth more than my use to others, and I pray you will learn the same."

As Link wrapped his arms, both arms, around Ghirahim, he let the tears fall. He hoped someday what Ghirahim said would be true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> these last few have been super short. blame midterms. Tomorrow's another long one!!! I've been working on it for a few days and I'm excited!!!


	23. (18+) Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The original for this was "Do These Tacos Taste Funny to You?" so I made my own for today, loosely based off the main prompt of Poisoned/Drugged/Withdrawal (Drugs are involved, willingly taken, that's about it.)
> 
> mild smut warning
> 
> Future Fantasy
> 
> (btw if you like hyper pop the soundtrack to this is Masochism by Ky Vöss. I found the song after I started writing this but it def gave me some inspiration for both the ghiralink relationship and future fantasy world)

"FI-02. It will be your aid as you complete the project, Chosen Hero."

"F i dash oh two. Cool. What's her name?"

"It is called FI-02."

Pause.

"Link, I know what you're thinking. It is a tool for you to use, not a friend to be made."

"I know, I know. She's—I mean, it's just very human-like."

Pause.

"02, huh? What happened to the first?"

Pause.

"It is the only one of its kind. There are no others like it."

* * *

Link panted as he rested on the side of the ring, listening to his partner droid list off statistics he didn't really care about, but the Project would love to fuss over.

"Thanks, Fi."

"Master Link, you know you should only refer to me by my designated name in the confines of the training facility."

Link sighed, slipping out of the ropes and sheathing his sword. "I know, but that's _not_ your name, you know?"

"Yes, Master Link. I just don't want you to be reprimanded again."

He rolled his eyes, waving off his partner. He often went against some of the base rules of HYLIA, but as their Chosen Experimental Subject #1 (ahem— _Chosen Hero_ ) he got away with a lot more than the other knights involved with the agency. And out of all the rules he had broken, treating Fi with respect was pretty low on the list risk-wise. 

Fi's mechanics made a whirring sound, and the wireless connection she had to the sword Link carried cut off. He was used to this by now, training on his own to wield the Blade of Evil's Bane, as it had been dubbed. He wasn't sure how or when he would be expected to _use_ the sword; no one told him what the final goal of the mysterious "project" was.

He had only been on a few missions for HYLIA, but he didn't think their experimental tech had been necessary. He had barely made it out with his life, and slunk back to the academy with a sword that needed upgrades he didn't know how to get.

"Zelda requests your presence at two." Fi reminded him, watching stoically as he downed his water bottle. "The director has sent a message to remind you to follow uniform code in communal spaces, you are a role model to the other knights. Your procedure for next week has been canceled, and will be rescheduled at a later time."

As she listed off important notifications, Link tuned them out. He'd be remined of them again sooner or later.

"And don't forget to charge your arm, the batteries are nearly depleted."

Link sighed, popping off the cover of the battery pack. The prosthetics were crucial to connecting him with the sword, or so they said. Every surgery he went into left him feeling less human and more machine.

"Zelda's back? She went off with her trainer on some classified mission, I didn't think she'd be back so soon." Link asked conversationally, beginning the daily routine of trying to get Fi to be his friend. He knew it was there, he knew she was intelligent and emotional, if she could just bypass the programming and think for herself.

"She retuned with Impa last night. Her meeting with you is urgent."

Link looked up from the mess of wires he was trying to plug in. "Urgent..? What's happened?"

The wires in his arm popped, and he yelped as they crossed with a false nerve. Of all the things they did to him, they still made him feel pain. Looking back to Fi, he groaned at the tell tale signs of her running into blocked files.

"I do not have access to this information." She stated bluntly, her head twitching as her restricted memory banks stopped her from saying more. 

"Can you at least give me an idea? Don't leave me hanging."

"I do not have access to this information."

Link shook his head in defeat, reaching a roadblock. It was unlikely he would get anything out of her after this, and there wasn't much point in torturing her processing system any longer.

"Fine. FI-02, save and quit."

"Yes, Master Link."

Her AI shut off, and he was left with a robotic follower GPS tracked to his sword. The training ring felt empty as ever.

* * *

"Thank you for meeting with me, Link."

Something was off about her, and not just the lab coat she donned instead of her uniform like the rest of them. She didn't look like a student here anymore, but one of... them.

Link nodded, hesitant to say anything. It was stupid, Zelda was his friend. They had been in this since the beginning, they would stick it through to the end and be fine.

"I know it has been hard for you, navigating this brave new world." She began, and she sounded for all the world as if she was reciting a rehearsed piece. Her tone was flat, her eyes avoiding his.

"I think it's time for you to learn the whole story. The story of Project Skyward Sword."

She spewed the same bullshit he had heard from the directors and scientists, the stories of god-like super powers using their wealth to build weapons of mass destruction. It was all things he had heard before, all the rumors of supernatural beings beyond their control. Supernatural powers HYLIA was trying to conquer, apparently.

"Which is why the Hyrule Liaison Intelligence Agency carried out the plans given to us by Hylia. It's real, Link, the talk of gods and spirits, it's all real."

Her blank tone changed to pleading, trying to get him to understand. Link took a cautious step back, not liking where she was going.

"FI-02, your sword, it carries a spirit. It is more than a weapon, it is advanced technology made to assist our chosen hero."

"So _she_ **is** alive?" Link snapped, speaking for the first time since he met with Zelda. His friend looked taken aback, but regained her composure quickly.

"No, it is still a machine, a tool made for a purpose. It's just..." She trailed off, unsure of how to justify this. Apparently they hadn't briefed her on how to deal with Link talking back.

"It doesn't matter." She shook her head, moving on. "Hylia made plans to take down her rival, a dark power known by the name Demise. In order to do so, she sacrificed her immortal life in the name of science.... her life and the life of her first Hero." 

First hero... something was coming together in Link's mind. He didn't like where it was headed.

"You've probably figured it out by now, haven't you, Link?"

He shook his head, afraid of the truth.

"There's a chip, in your brain. All of us have them, we know this. The Loftwing card connects us to HYLIA, they keep us safe. But yours... yours is different."

Link turned from her, not able to look anymore. He was shaking, palms clammy as he tried to block out the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"Your spirit has been reuploaded and repurposed to fulfil what Chosen Hero #1 could not: taking down Demise. You are the reincarnation of the Chosen Hero." 

A long silence stretched between the two. The white noise of the academy filled what neither said, a constant chorus of beeping and grinding machinery. A constant reminder of the world they lived in.

"So I'm one of their creations too. A clone"

"Link, it's more complicated than that—"

Angered, he spun around, a light on his arm flashing to indicate his "aura" was overreacting. Turning off the connection to Fi once more, he ignored it.

"And you knew. I'm no different than Fi, than the failed experiments you refuse to talk about. What happens if I fail this time? You'll break me down again, build a new hero?"

"No, that's not what—"

"What did he think of this? Did he know? Know that you'd use him until he died, and then desecrate his body and mind to keep fighting on your behalf?"

"Link!" Zelda yelled, her high voice cutting through his tirade. "I'm—I know what you're going through. I'm the reincarnation of Hylia."

"Clone, you mean. They tried to build god, and got you instead."

"We prefer the term reincarnation." Zelda snapped, clenching her fists. Her eyes welled with tears, but as her back turned, Link didn't see them fall. 

"I'm still... I'm still your Zelda. And you're still my Link." She whispered, but the words were swallowed by the sounds of the building. "I'm sorry, I didn't know until they told me... I take responsibility for this. As Hylia reborn, as I have had her memories uploaded into my own. I am fully to blame."

She took a deep breath, straightening her shoulders and staring forward. "And so, I'm going to continue her divine plan, and move onto the next step of—"

"I don't care."

Zelda broke her rehearsed speech again, flipping her hair back as she looked at him in confusion.

"L—Link?"

"I don't care. Someone else will tell me." 

Waving her off, Link turned to leave, glaring ahead as he left.

"Link!" He heard her call, but as the tears began to fall, he didn't turn back.

As he punched in the numbers to leave the room, he heard Zelda whisper,

"They weren't trying to rebuild Hylia. My purpose is far less important, and I am far more expandable."

* * *

Link was upset. He was angry, annoyed, and overall confused. He knew, he knew from the start HYLIA was training him to be a soldier, to protect, but he didn't realize how far they meant to take it.

He didn't want to admit it, but there was only one person who could console him right now. He felt betrayed by the ones he called friends, family, after so many years. Pulling his hood up to hide his features, Link climbed onto the windowsill.

"You're sneaking out again."

Fuck. He had already been caught.

"No! Just. . . leaving when no one can see me."

He shifted on the small platform, kicking himself for not think to turn of the android he was _literally connected to_ before sneaking out. It seemed his escape attempt had been foiled before he had a chance to start; she was sure to send this information to the higher ups. She couldn't override those codes.

Fi sighed, and it was so _human_ it made Link smile.

"You're going to see him again, aren't you."

He almost fell off the window.

"Him? There is no 'him', I don't know what you're talking about."

Normally the look she gave would be great, because it meant she was able to show emotion, but right now? He did not need her judging him like that, thanks.

They had a silent stare down, waiting for the other to confess or break and tell. Link's thighs strained uncomfortably, but moving to a better position would be admitting defeat.

It was Fi who broke first. Her machinery whirred as she stepped towards him, offering the total shut down panel on the back of her neck.

"Commence shut down sequence. Take the sword with you. They can't get information out of me if they can't turn me back on."

"You're a genius."

He kissed her forehead, popping the latch off and fumbling for the right buttons. 

"I am a computer."

"Close enough."

He laughed, pressing down on one of two buttons needed to induce a complete shut down. Reaching for his sword, he swung the belt over his shoulder and slid his thumb up the hilt until it rested on the emergency stop.

He didn't press it, though. He hated doing this, turning Fi off all the way felt _wrong_. She was allowed so little autonomy, taking away her force of life entirely couldn't be right.

Fi stepped closer, raising a hand to his shoulder. The material of her dress flowed over her arm, showing off the blue and purple designs, showing off how non-human she was. It didn't make it better, but when he looked into her blank eyes, Link could feel her spirit, her _true_ self asking him to do this.

"Link, please be careful."

"I will."

He pushed down.

* * *

Hyrule City was best at night.

The neon lights washed over the glistening streets, wet with rainfall from earlier that evening. Link raced through the alleys on a "borrowed" bike, one the academy wouldn't miss if he accidentally crashed.

It wasn't something he wanted to think about. Dying while he was still practically property of HYLIA, to be torn down and built back up as a new hero. He wanted the chip gone, but they were buried so deep within their brains it was impossible to take out without irreparable damage. 

He only knew one way of interfering.

He wasn't sure if he wanted to do this. At their last meeting, he had been given an address, told he was welcome whenever he felt like it. Not that he would always be there, and more often that not wouldn't, but when night fell he was likely to meet him again.

It wasn't something you normally said, after a fight. Link started scaling the fire escape, climbing to the top apartment. It was a nice part of the city, one of the more expensive districts. He certainly looked sketchy doing this.

It wasn't something you would say to an enemy at all, Link thought, staring at the back door. It wasn't something he should have accepted, but the promise of finding out who he really was, without the influence of HYLIA, called to him like a siren's song.

He climbed over the balcony railing and through an open window.

"I have a door, you know."

Link jumped, not actually expecting Ghirahim to be there. He pulled off his helmet, adjusting his hair as he searched for some excuse.

"With security cams, I'm sure."

"They've probably tracked you here already, why go to such a length to hide it." Ghirahim rolled his eyes, stepping up from the expensive looking couch he had been lounging on. "And the fire escape is just as secured as the front door."

He gave him an obvious once over, crossing his arms and looking dedicedly unimpressed. 

"You're dripping all over my rug."

Link mumbled an apology, tucking the helmet under his arm. He shifted his weight back and forth, waiting for Ghirahim to say something.

"Anyway, hello, Link, you're only here for the drugs, I'm sure." The demon dismissed, turning away towards a kitchen area. Link stuttered his disagreement, and, honestly, he still wasn't positive he would be taking anything Ghirahim gave him tonight.

"And to—you know, hang out, I guess."

Ghirahim stopped his idle actions, looking over at Link in disbelief. 

"You broke into my apartment to 'hang out'?"

"More or less."

Ghirahim's stare was unreadable, and Link felt himself blushing under the gaze. Finally, the demon shook his head, pulling open a kitchen drawer and pulling out a sealed container.

"Fine. Let's 'hang out', as you say, but I'm bringing these with me."

* * *

Out on Ghirahim's balcony (a second balcony, a better balcony with an amazing view and no fire escape), Link watched the cars rush through the streets like rats in a maze. He was sitting precariously on the railing, legs dangling off into the dark depths of the alleyways below.

Ghirahim was mostly silent, watching the same sight with less awe than Link. He saw it everyday, could lean against the intricately patterned bars as he was doing now anytime he wanted.

It was definitely awkward, Link unsure how and if he should say what he wanted to. He wanted to vent to someone he trusted, and Ghirahim was not that person. If anything, being here only compromised his mission.

Still, he wanted to get a little revenge on HYLIA, and this seemed a good way.

He didn't just come here to sit and stare at the city. He came for what every person sneaking around at night ultimately wanted: sex and drugs. Both things the academy had highly discouraged, heavily regulated, and strictly punished those who were caught. He had to seek these vices elsewhere.

Looking beautifully ethereal, bathed in the neon pink, purple, teal lights, Link couldn't help find his answer in Ghirahim.

And yet he still sat there, awkwardly fidgeting as if this was their first time.

"That's a new arm." Ghirahim remarked casually, gesturing to the silver and gold metal of his sword hand.

"You like it?"

The demon hummed an non committal answer. "They'll just keep replacing part of you until you're like her... a mindless soldier made to follow their will. Get out while you can."

"Like you're any different." Link scoffed, scooting closer. Ghirahim gave him a brief glance before turning his attention back to the city.

"I know who you're working for now. They told me." Link began, testing if he could say what was on his mind.

"Yeah?"

"I remember you saying you used to work for HYLIA, but I couldn't find your name in any records. And I know—how much do you know about Skyward Sword?"

Ghirahim jerked in surprise, but shook off the slight loss to his composure a second later. Back to his uncaring attitude, he followed Link's question with, "Skyward Sword? They're going through with that?"

"Already did."

"Damn. That makes you... yeah, I know all about it."

"More than I did, apparently." Link mumbled bitterly, "If you can tell me, was this really... was this their best option?"

Ghirahim didn't immediately answer. After a deep sigh, he looked opposite of Link, in the direction of the academy. 

"There were others, general outlines. Be glad they didn't commence project Breath of the Wild, that means everything's gone to shit." 

Link laughed, feeling his heart melt when Ghirahim looked back to him with a smile. He was sure it skipped a beat when the demon took hold of his hand, gently brushing the back with caring circular motions.

"Look, the less you know, the better. I could never get you to switch sides, and even if you wanted to, it's near impossible. I won't torture you like that. Keep fighting me, and keep pretending what you're doing is good. I can assure you, even if HYLIA is morally corrupt, what I'm doing is worse." 

Link bit at the inside of his lip, holding back an argument. He turned back to the city, and heard Ghirahim sigh.

There was a soft shuffle as he reached into his pocket. Pulling out the case from earlier, Ghirahim flipped open the lid to show a neat row of colorless pills.

"No signals. Complete radio silence. Blocks both input and output, and makes you feel good as a bonus."

"I don't know..." Link hesitated, flexing his robotic arm. Turning off meant turning off everything, and he wasn't sure how dependent on HYLIA's technology he actually was.

"I'll take one too."

Ghirahim offered, taking a tiny pill and popping it into his mouth. Clearly swallowing, sticking out his tongue for Link to see, his face split into a wide grin.

"There. Cut off from my corporate owners."

It was tempting. Link had done this before, it wasn't new. He hadn't had any major surgeries since then, it shouldn't have been any different those all those other times. He thought back to his soon to be rescheduled procedures, Zelda going ahead with phase two of Hylia's original plans... this may have been his last chance.

But it was still dangerous.

"I turned Fi off. Complete shut down."

Ghirahim flinched, a subtle movement Link almost missed, but he was offering Link the drug again a moment later.

"You think that's the only way they're tracking you?"

Despite his better judgement, Link took one of the tiny capsules, turning it over in his hand as he contemplated the consequences.

"Come on. You like them. For once, they let you be yourself."

He was right. Now, more than ever, Link wanted to remember what it was like without knowing he was grown from second hand parts. 

"You want to block the chip even more, don't you? You want to be the real 'you'?"

"How do I even begin to define 'myself'?" Link muttered hopelessly, but the pill was raised to his lips. He closed his eyes, felt it rest heavy on his tongue, the sweet coating masking the sour taste in his throat.

"Take it, Link. I can help give you an identity."

* * *

It didn't take long for the pill to kick in. Shocked his system, let his guard down. Link felt every tiny machine inside him shut off, blinking out unnecessary functions as he started to ride the high of the drugs.

Ghirahim led him back inside his apartment with the incentive of sucking him off. For the first time, Link was taken to an elaborately decorated bedroom, as fancy and elegant as the apartment and the demon himself.

As the tech ingrained within him blinked out and left him soley human, he felt his mind slip away, giving in to the call of the siren once more.

The bedsheets still felt like heaven when Link was laid upon them, the bites Ghirahim gave still hurt like hell. Clothing and accessories were removed, Link feeling the pressure on his arm relieved as his prosthetic went with them. 

His mind always felt fuzzy, buzzing with interference as the tech blockers kept him safe from prying eyes, let him let go and enjoy this without worry. Ghirahim seemed more subdued than usual, and Link couldn't remember if he had ever taken the pill with him.

Every touch was heightened, his and only his as Ghirahim wrapped his mouth around him. No cataloguing every scratch, no analyzing each bruise, no recording reactions as he cried out in ecstasy. 

Relaxed from the chemicals in his system, flooding his bloodstream with both natural and unnatural pleasure, Link offered Ghirahim all he had. He opened so easily, whimpering softly at the praise he was given for giving himself up.

This certainly wasn't a new feeling, but it felt unlike anything they had done before. There was no teasing, no carefully crafted degradation made to make him feel great, no rushing through with what little time they had together. Ghirahim was rough, as he could be nothing else (and Link would want nothing less), but he was caring, taking time to push Link to the edge as far as he could go and let him fall slowly into paradise.

Though he was left full and weak, he didn't feel used. He felt wanted, needed, like Ghirahim cared about him and not just how his body could be manipulated into a tight mold, shaped to complete a goal he would never reap he benefits of. Dare he say it, he felt loved. 

They were dangerous thoughts to think.

* * *

In the aftermath of their mistakes, Link waited anxiously for the wires and chips to flare to life again. Even slowly powering back on would suffice. 

He was still in the state of "radio silence", as Ghirahim called it.

He was getting more nervous.

The demon had disappeared somewhere in the house, told him to stay put and not to worry, that he would be back in a minute. Link only followed one of the requests, staying as he was told. He wrapped himself in the blankets, but they offered little comfort as he panicked.

It was, and always had been, a terrible idea. He wondered if this was it, if he had finally stepped too far from the safety of the nest, told Ghirahim too much and put everything he had worked for in jeopardy. He came here wanting to hurt HYLIA, but he hadn't wanted to destroy everything he built his life on.

Ghirahim came back a few minutes later, holding out water for Link to take. He had to practically force it into his hand, concerned about Link beginning to dissociate.

"It's not turning back on. It normally turns back on after.. after..."

"Flushing it out of your system." Ghirahim offered. "I don't know. These may have been stronger. Don't get worked up over it."

"I can't get back if I don't have it. There's... keys and maps and... important things that I can't access..."

"Then stay here." Ghirahim sighed, climbing back into bed. He pulled Link into an embrace, lacing fingers into his hair affectionately. "Sleep it off. Go back in the morning, I don't care."

Link was shaking, shivering as he tugged the blanket tighter around him. He had never, _never_ spent a full night away from the academy, much less unplugged like this. 

"I didn't do this on purpose, if that's what you're thinking." Ghirahim reassured him, guiding him to lie down on the bed. "Shh. Sleep it off, you'll be fine in the morning.

"Yeah, Yeah, okay."

* * *

When the sunlight hit the window, scattered rainbows danced across the floor of Ghirahim's room. Link sighed, squeezing his eyes shut to block the light.

He had to get up. He had to get back.

He could feel the electronics working again, the familiar buzz of electricity running through him. He still didn't have his sword hand connected, but it would be sure to work if he plugged it in.

Unfortunately, Link still felt sluggish, powered down and running on battery saver. He rolled over, cheek squished into the pillow as he stared at the back of Ghirahim's neck.

He was still asleep, if his constant and slow breathing was anything to go by. Link squinted, trying to make out the tattoo at the top of his spine.

Oh.

_Oh._

"You're... I've seen that sequence before." 

Ghirahim froze up. Evidently he was awake.

"01. You were the original." Link whispered, eyes focused on the designation. It looked warped, as if someone had taken a knife to it and scratched scars across the ink. 

"Prototype, more like. A failed experiment."

"But... how?"

Ghirahim sighed, rolling onto his back so Link could no longer see.

"The android you call Fi is just that—a robot built to house her captured spirit. I was... I was more like you."

Link was silent, unsure what to do with this new information. It shouldn't have changed anything. He would still have to fight him, he would still have to return to the academy and act like there had never been any other than his Fi, pretend he was fighting for a just cause.

He didn't know what to think.

The sunlight hurt his eyes as when he tried to sit up, so he just moved closer to Ghirahim. He wanted to know more, but wasn't going to push.

"You were supposed to be my sword." He joked, trying to ease the tension. His hand drifted over to Ghirahim's arm, brushing against his very human feeling skin. The metal must have been hidden underneath. "You could still, you know."

"I can't go back, they'd have me deactivated. You know that."

"Killed, you mean. You'd die."

Ghirahim sighed, but he didn't push Link away, Curling around him, he muttered into his hair, "Link, as much as you want to fight them on this, HYLIA does not see their creations as human, much less alive."

"And where does that leave me?"

The words left his mouth before he could stop them. He wasn't trying to make Ghirahim feel guilty, he wasn't trying to make this harder, but they slipped out. His demon sighed again, holding him tighter as Link tucked his cheek against Ghirahim's collar bone.

"I don't know. You're safer with them than with me, so work on taking us down and you can fix HYLIA's problems after."

"You can't just... stop?"

"I'm still a sword, Link. I've only been repurposed by someone who sees me as more useful."

Link's hand gripped at Ghirahim's arm, nails digging in half moon shapes. He felt alive, he felt real, so much more than Fi. It was hard to imagine this spirit strapped down and broken up, like he had been. It was hard to imagine them taking out life and filling the holes in with wires and receivers. Left an empty and submissive shell like Fi. A perfect tool.

It didn't work on him, though. That was why they didn't acknowledge him. Ghirahim fought back.

If he continued on defying HYLIA, was this his fate?

Link closed his eyes, hand snaking up to trace the serial number, the ridges from the scars an odd texture under his finger.

"FI-01. What does FI stand for?"

"They never told us."

"First initiative... but they wouldn't name Fi that too. Final intelligence, like artificial intelligence?"

"Link, what it stands for doesn't matter.

"Fuck it?"

Ghirahim scoffed, hiding his smile from Link. He could still feel it pressed against his forehead.

It was nice, here in his arms, but Link knew now more than ever he had no choice. With the technology back on, HYLIA would come looking sooner rather than later.

And Ghirahim was right, they wouldn't simply kill him if they got their less than favored prototype back. As they had done with their first hero, with the supposed goddess herself, they would break him down for parts and build a stronger weapon. They would kill all life in him as they tired to wield powers they could never understand.

Link's hand drifted back down Ghirahim's shoulder, stopping to press against his chest.

"I have to go."

He murmured, scared to go back, but more scared of not being able to leave.

"I know."

"I'll... I'll think of something. Taking down Demise doesn't mean taking down you."

"Unfortunately, I believe it does."

"No. No, it doesn't. We are more than those who seek to control us." Link argued, but he didn't have time to really convince him. He would still fight for HYLIA, still help them reach the goals he was never told of, but he would do it on his own terms.

And he would come out of this human.


	24. What's A Whumpee Gotta Do To Get Some Sleep Around Here?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Exhaustion | ~~Narcolepsy~~ | Sleep Deprivation
> 
> Canon Setting
> 
> so OOC but if this isn't a mood

"Oh, hello there, skychild, fancy meeting you—"

"Ghirahim, I haven't slept more than five hours in the past three days. I am **not** in the mood for this."

The demon took a step back, dramatic presentation halted by Link's blunt statement. Link really wasn't having any of this today. He felt like shit, and though he hadn't seen his own reflection since leaving Skyloft, he was sure he looked a mess as well.

"That's not—what makes you think that's going to stop _me_ , great Demon Lord of the Surface—"

Link tuned out Ghirahim's rant, not even bothering to draw his sword. He was barely standing on his feet, much less awake enough to listen.

"ANd—we're all tired, it's not just you! You can't just push aside fate and destiny because you're 'sleepy', what kind of a—"

"Ghirahim, I'm fucking exhausted, man. Literally kill me now and I will thank you. I await the sweet release of death."

Link mumbled, not really aware of what he was saying anymore. Ghirahim, if possible, looked even more offended, mouth hanging open as if Link had just insulted his fashion sense. (He would never. He may have been tired, but he didn't _really_ have a death wish)

"Stop this childish nonsense right now." Ghirahim snapped, sword appearing in his hand. His free hand flung his hair to the side, gesturing at the purple around his eyes. "You think this is a make up choice? I'm not particularly happy to be here either, but at least **I** will make the necessary sacrifices for _my_ master without complaining."

"Five hours. Three days."

"Oh, five hours in three days, that sounds practically like paradise right now. Try a goddess-damn _millennia,_ then we'll talk."

"You're a demon. I'm a human. I'm fragile."

"Oh, you most certainly are, and I will take pleasure in breaking every delicate bone in your insolent body—"

"This isn't a competition." Link argued, but it was lost to Ghirahim's newest _furious! outraged! sick with anger!_ monologue. He blinked slowly, taking a deep breath as the demon lord continued.

"It requires strength of mind and body, something you so clearly don't possess, to resurrect an imprisoned god, to pull a soul from the depths of darkness and breathe life into the honestly appalling form it has chosen to inhabit while you slave away trying _every goddess damn thing to get him back, **stopped at every moment by the 'ever-so-faithful' pets she keeps—"**_

"Do you want to take a nap?"

Ghirahim's verbal onslaught ceased, the demon frozen with his fists clenched in rage, hunched over as he wound up to explore.

It never came, as he straightened up to look at Link like he had lost his mind. And, honestly, he had. He wasn't entirely sure this wasn't a hallucination his sleep deprived mind hadn't made up.

"Do I— _What?"_

"Instead of fighting? We could sleep. No one needs to know." Link offered, stepping towards Ghirahim. In turn, the demon moved back, wary this was some trap or attempt to catch him off guard.

"I mean, we're the only ones here. And Fi, but she's pretty quiet." He explained, approaching until he was inches away from Ghirahim. His hand moved up to bunch in his brilliant red cape. "We don't have to tell people we didn't fight. I'd even let you cut me up a bit after, to make it realistic."

He looked up with wide eyes at the demon, lowering his eyelashes as he pleaded, "Come on. We both need this. Please?"

Ghirahim stuttered, raising a hand as if he was going to push Link away. It fell weakly to his side, and he gave in with a sigh.

"Fine."

Link smiled, already tugging him down by the cape. The floor may have been cold and hard, but he was too tired and too giddy to care.

Fist still bunched into Ghirahim's mantle, he raised the soft fabric up, seeking permission.

"Can I?"

Ghirahim shrugged, a little surprised when Link ducked under and popped his head through the top. 

"What are you—"

"Shh. Shut up and sleep." He murmured, resting his head on the demon's shoulder. The body beneath him was tense, but after a moment of weak resistance, Ghirahim relaxed. When strong arms wrapped around him, Link smiled into the crook of his neck.


	25. You're Not Making Any Sense

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forced Mutism | Blindfolded | Sensory Deprivation
> 
> Modern AU

What most people don't realize is that chloroform does not knock you out immediately.

It weakens you, causing dizziness and fatigue as you slowly lose the will to fight back. The world only fades to black if you let it. Or if something else blocks it out.

He fucked up.

That much was obvious.

Everything else? Not so much.

Link had been careless, let his guard down in the wrong place at the wrong time, and next thing he knew he had been jumped by strange men with familiar motives. He hadn't had time to fight back with all his strength, restrained and blindfolded before he knew what was happening, thrown into the trunk of a car as he tried to alert his partner.

The ride there was bumpy, the driver absolutely atrocious. His phone buzzed once, twice, lighting up what little he could see under the black fabric, and he thanked all the goddesses he had put it on silent. Even if he couldn't reach it now, the fact he had it was a comfort.

He wasn't sure how long it took them to stop, but the change from darkness to sunlight was enough to alert him it couldn't have been too long. Dragged from the trunk, pushed around until he was on his knees on cold, hard, concrete, Link blindly followed his captors with reluctant obedience.

The hands holding him down moved away, but Link wasn't foolish enough to make a break for it like this. Biding his time, he waited for more intel on the situation.

A slender hand twisted into his hair, almost gently and calming. It made the contrasting yank back hurt so much more.

Yep. Only one person this could be.

"Hello there, Link."

 _What, no stupid nickname?_ , Link thought, but with the fabric pulled tightly across his mouth he couldn't voice his rebuttals. Ghirahim's usual scathing remarks would have to go unanswered this time.

"I'm terribly sorry for the treatment my men subjected you to, but, as I'm sure you understand, it's just business."

Unable to respond, he huffed, met with another tug to his hair. Ghirahim sighed, releasing his grip.

"Look, I'm sure neither of us want to be here, but we are rapidly approaching the conclusion of our time together, so the more you co-operate, the greater the mercy I'll show when you finally realize how futile it is to fight me."

Link gasped as the cloth was taken from his mouth, trying to suck in deep breaths of air as he coughed. He heard Ghirahim tsk, and could picture the man rolling his eyes with a hip titled up.

"Amateurs. I wouldn't have had to go to such lengths, but unfortunately I am _very_ busy, and not in a particualrly good mood. If you would be so kind as to tell me where the girl is, I'll let you on your way."

Though Link's mouth was free, he didn't respond. Ghirahim growled above him, steps echoing through the room as he circled around Link.

"Or not, if you'd rather stay. Either way I will find her, it just depends on if you wish to survive a little longer or not."

"I'm not going to tell you." Link muttered, and he knew Ghirahim knew. His voice dropped lower than a whisper, taking a risk he was betting much more than his own life on.

"We both know you don't want to do this. Please, Ghirahim."

He heard a sharp intake of breath somewhere to his left, and next thing he knew a the rag was looped around his throat. Ghirahim crouched to his level, leaned over his shoulder and warned,

"This isn't about what I desire, Link. I had my fun, playtime's over. If you continue to defy me, I am afraid I will have no choice."

He pressed a kiss next to his ear under the guise of whispering another threat, and Link realized they weren't alone.

"Well then, if that's all you have to say," The man began pulling back on the cloth until Link gagged. "Then so be it." 

Link struggled again, writhing as Ghirahim raised the cloth back to his lips, pleading though it would never be heard.

"Ghirahim, no, you don't have to—"

"I'm sorry."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the modern equivalent of an Eldin volcano chapter. Like the fourth time I've written the same exact scene. I'm crying it happened AGAIN


	26. I Think I'll Just Collapse Right Here, Thanks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disorientation | Blurred Vision | Ringing Ears
> 
> You know how when Link dies in SS he doesn't just die he falls over and kinda tries to get back up and then... yeah.
> 
> GRAPHIC violence I know it's tagged but this one is a little worse

The sword cut through his back like it was butter, slicing through him until he could feel it poking out his chest. Link gasped, utterly surprised at the mess spilling out in front of him, staining the water he had been inches from reaching.

It didn't hurt. He must have been in shock, to not feel this. His hand came up to the blade, barely touching the sharp tip, and it sunk in.

He failed.

Link stumbled forward, but it was too late. The world was beginning to disintegrate, his vision leaving him with red and black splotches of light. He wasn't sure where he was anymore, falling to his knees in the puddle that was nearly black with his blood. He didn't know he had that much blood in his body.

Struggling to crawl away, Link reached out, trying his best to keep going. The pain was beginning to set in, only made worse by the sword in his back excruciatingly yanked away. He cried out in agony, throat thick as liquid practically poured from his mouth.

All he could think through the pain was;

_I failed her._

His ears were ringing as he fell to the ground once more, choking on blood and water.

_I'm dying and she's going to die too._

He couldn't breath. He felt like something was tugging on his heart, pulling him back.

_I'm dead. He's killed me. I'm dead and she'll be dead and everyone I know will be dead and I'm dying oh Hylia I'm dying—_

His eyes shut, a last gurgling groan leaving his throat. Face down in Faron Woods, the hero lay motionless, bathed in the dying light.

**_Oh, skychild. What have you done to yourself now._ **

* * *

Any glorious fantasies he had of death before now were false.

Death was not peaceful.

Death was not beautiful, or poetic, or romantic.

Death was death, and Link was a bloody mess. 

.  
.  
.

At least, he thought he was. His body ached, but there was no hole in his chest.

"Oh, great, you're awake."

Link rolled over, groaning as he blinked in the bright sunlight.

"What..."

"I can _unfortunately_ confirm that you have failed to pass the trial. Take as much time as you need to successfully complete them, but remember, your girlfriend is in danger."

"She's not my girlfriend." Link muttered, picking himself from the ground. 

"Try again?"

"Ghirahim, what—"

"Master, would you like to try the Silent Realm Trial again?" Ghirahim interrupted him, looking decidedly unimpressed. 

"I... no, not right now."

"Whatever." If the spirit had visible eyes, he would have been rolling them.

Link shifted uncomfortably as he stared at the sword in the center of the circle. That had felt so... real. He could still feel the phantom pain in his back, still taste iron on his tongue.

"How am I supposed to—" He began hopelessly, choking up as he thought of having to go through that again.

"I don't know, be faster."

"Not helping." Link crossed his arms, turning from the blade stuck in the ground. His sword spirit was standing close by, barley hiding his grin from his knight.

"You'll have to do it again, you know." The spirit sighed, walking up to loom over top of him. "Unless you think can't do it. I suppose you could always die and wait for a new reincarnation, but I don't believe Demise will be as patient."

Link scoffed, very nearly about to send him back into the sword if he kept teasing him. He had just _died,_ couldn't he get a little mercy?

Evidently not, as Ghirahim reached out to pull his gaze back to him.

"Don't fret so much. It was only your first try." He tilted his head, amending his statement, "Of course, you'll only get one try with every other fight, but during most of those you'll be armed. Care to try again?"

Link shook his head, as best he could with Ghirahim's hand still on his face. He ducked down to get away from it, sure he was blushing.

"Then run away to your island in the sky, I suppose." His sword mocked, and it made Link angrier.

"I'm not running away! I don't run away!" He snapped, and Ghirahim looked slightly taken aback. Groaning in frustration, Link walked back to the sword wedged in the ground.

"I'm not scared of dying," he whispered, sure Ghirahim could hear, "I'm scared of failing her."

There was silence as Link stared at the blade, at war with whether he wanted to pick it back up just yet. He jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder, embarrassed his turn to get away only left him closer to Ghirahim.

"Link," he began, a sigh of his name, "You're not going to fail her. And even if you do, why care? You'd be dead. Don't antagonize yourself over what you can't control."

Link sighed, nodding at the strange advice Ghirahim offered. He supposed a sword wouldn't be very warm when it came to comfort. 

"It's not just her, anyway." The sword mumbled, and Link was surprised to hear a hint of jealousy in his voice. "It's the entire world."

Link stiffened as the sword's arm rested farther over his shoulder. It was bold of him, but still hyped on the adrenaline, Link was about to do something riskier. 

Completing his turn, he stepped closer, hands resting on Ghirahim's brilliant red gem. His blank eyes widened.

"Master—"

"Is this okay?" Link frantically asked, looking up at Ghirahim's startled face. 

"Ah—yes, of course, I thought—Her Grace—"

"Zelda? No, I... we're just friends." Link clarified, heart skipping a beat as Ghirahim's other hand wrapped around his waist. He gulped, tracing a gentle line down the gem.

"I don't think I can do the trials again today." Link shuddered, leaning his head against Ghirahim's shoulders. "I'll try again tomorrow, but now... I need to get my mind off them."

"Do you wish to try something else?" Ghirahim murmured, and Link's face flushed to the tip of his ears. He nodded slightly, mind supplying him with some creative options.

"If you want." He whispered, breath hitching as Ghirahim held him tighter. "We should go home."

"I'll help you... take your mind off it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it was kind of a spoiler but if you didn't know by now Roleswap AU
> 
> Also! I deleted some stuff off this account so I'm comfortable with sharing this link if you want to chat on [Tumblr](https://skyview-spring-of-power.tumblr.com/). I'm always down to yell about Skyward Sword :)


	27. If You Thought the Head Trauma was Bad. . .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  ~~Migraine~~ | ~~Concussion~~ | Blindness
> 
> Roleswap AU not really related to the last chapter but kind of the same idea

Ghirahim had never worried he would be of use to the hero. He was made by the goddess to serve them, to help them fulfil their destiny. There was never any need to question how she made him, it was all according to her plan.

And then he found out eyes were meant to see, hands made to feel, the world to be described by vision.

Metal did neither.

That may pose some problems.

It had never been a problem for _him_. He was a sword, swords were not made as Hylians were. He could use his abilities to get around easily enough, the little time he spent outside of his blade. His master would move him through space, he was only meant to scan and inform. He had thought this was how everything detected the world.

Link was a wrench in his plans. The boy was hopeless, wandering lost through a surface Ghirahim was brought to believe he could navigate by himself. There was little point in his dowsing abilities if the knight couldn't figure out how to get over obstacles to reach the destination.

He wasn't sure when he changed to start spending more time outside his blade, relying on other methods of finding his way around. Frequent analysis often left him with a vague picture (picture, what an odd concept) of the world Link was dragging him through, and he learned how to pick up on tiny changes through another foreign sense: touch 

This sense of feeling was dangerous for a sword spirit. He was not made to feel, as the forge was hot and battle rough, and all he would be subjected to was pain. He had a sense there were outside forces at work from the few times Hylia had allowed him outside the blade, but the world was... so much bigger than that.

He found he didn't care about sight. He didn't need it, there was no missing something he never had. Link could gasp in awe at the wonders of the surface all he wanted, Ghirahim was fine with quickly scanning them and moving on. Colors and appearances were not a concern to him.

That being said, it did not mean he had no sense of beauty. To him, beauty was in being used in ways other than intended purpose, in cold steel and sharp edges, heated skin and rounded curves. Link underneath him, his firm grip on a hilt that was never meant to feel, the gentle brush of fingers over a gem. 

Hylia made him for one thing. There was no need for unnecessary additions, silly things like senses and emotions.

But Hylia had given him to a hero whose strength was born from those; how could she expect Ghirahim to never learn?


	28. (18+) Ok, Who Had Natural Disasters on Their 2020 Bingo Card?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  ~~Earthquake~~ | Extreme Weather | Power Outage
> 
> Modern AU, smut warning

What had started as a gentle snowstorm was quickly turning into a blizzard. For the first snow of the season, this was something to make a big deal over.

Ghirahim had to admit Link was right to overreact when the radio lit up with the snow warning, but it wasn't his fault. He was from the city, where the roads would be clear in the morning and everything would go on as normal. Link, country boy at heart, was used to total shut down for the mere thought of an inch.

Skyloft wasn't a completely backroads town (at least he didn't live in _Ordon_ ), but it was no Hyrule. Sure enough, Link's phone buzzed with a community post that the one grocery store would be shut down for two days (it hadn't even started snowing when he got that, what the hell), and Link had been very smug he made them stock up. 

Right now his fiancé was humming some overplayed song about snow, his turn to wash the dishes, as Ghirahim stared out at the swirling wind with concern. Link, finished his chores, walked up behind him.

"You remembered to let the cat in, right? It's getting bad out there, I wouldn't be surprised if—"

_CLick_

"Yep, power outage." He sighed, looking back into the dark house. Night had fallen, but if that wasn't the case, the snow would have blocked out the sun and left them in total darkness anyway. Link fumbled for his phone's flashlight while Ghirahim accepted the lights were not coming back on.

No longer in the dark, Link's phone lit up their tiny home long enough for him to find a proper flashlight. 

"You know what this means..." He whispered, flciking off his phone before turning on the light.

"You're going to make me go out in this and turn on the back up generator."

"Well, yes, we should probably do that so we don't freeze over night, but..... before that...."

Link murmured, slipping up next to him and taking hold of his hand.

"You've never been stuck in a power outage before, have you?"

"Of course I have, happens all the time. We weren't so lucky as to have secondary power supplies, we were at the mercy of our land- _over_ -lords."

"But that was in dorms and apartments with strict rules, you probably waited it out in the dark or with flashlights." Link teased, sliding up next to him on the couch. He straddled one of Ghirahim's thighs, reaching his other hand up to twirl a finger in his silky hair.

"Out here we don't have to deal with that. These things can go on for hours, days, it's best to preserve things like energy... and heat..." Pouting, Link drew his finger in a line down Ghirahim's face to gently tug at his bottom lip. Ghirahim smirked, giving the pad a soft kiss. He liked where this was going.

"We can light candles! Shove all the blankets together in the living room and sleep by the fireplace! It's fun. Kind of romantic. Would keep us warm."

Even in the darkness, Ghirahim could see the hint of a blush on Link's face. taking hold of his hips, he responded, "Are you by chance cold, Link?"

"Freezing."

His partner giggled when he pulled him in for a kiss, wiggling closer still as he pressed down against Ghirahim's thigh.

"We should do something about that."

*

Blankets strewn about (only a few candles lit, Link had allergies and sneezed when Ghirahim lit his scented ones), pillows thrown across the floor, the couch cushions upheaved from their proper places (cat inside and locked away to curl up on their bed), Link wrapped himself in the sheets and sighed. He didn't particularly feel like taking off his clothes, the air biting where it hit exposed skin, but he would make sacrifices for what he wanted.

"You know, I read somewhere that body heat is the best way to warm someone who's at risk of hypothermia." Link remarked, watching the other still fighting with the fireplace. "That bare skin to skin contact is the best treatment."

"That's been disproven."

"Ghirahim, I'm trying to be sexy." He whined, tossing a pillow at his back in frustration. He could hear Ghirahim suppressing his laughter, and determinedly decided he needed to get back at him.

Fire at least glowing, but not the warm blaze he had been going for, Ghirahim turned from the mantle in defeat, freezing when he saw Link sitting on top of the blankets.

Naked.

"Are you just going to stare at me, or are you going to do something?" He crossed his arms, but there was a grin on his face.

"This seems very counter productive." Ghirahim muttered, but he was already pulling his sweatshirt over his head. 

"It won't be soon enough."

Impatient, Link tugged him down by his pants, face heating up when they dipped to reveal Ghirahim's hip bones. Biting the inside of his cheek, he hovered over his lap, breath coming faster as Ghirahim revealed his cock.

"I want you inside of me. Now." He ordered, head snapping up to Ghirahim's face.

"Slow down, don't hurt yourself." His partner smirked, hands running along the swell of his ass. Link gasped, bucking away from the touch and against his toned stomach.

"You're freezing!"

"Oh?" He smirked, running a cold hand up Link's side and relishing the yelp and shiver. "I've warned you, this may not be the best way to warm you up."

"Shut up, I'll prove you wrong." Link laughed, breathy gasps leaving his mouth as Ghirahim's hands wandered, light touch an almost painful contrast to his own body heat. 

Taking his fingers into his mouth, Link sucked until they were coated, reaching back to finger himself while panting into the other's neck.

"Hylia, Link, you're desperate." Ghirahim laughed, reaching back for his discarded sweatshirt pocket to get real lube. 

Not taking time to warm it in his palm (he wanted Link to squirm anyway), Ghirahim pressed another two fingers against Link's, stretching him open as he moaned softly into his ear. He knew Link was getting antsy, but he still took his time to massage each ring of muscle, liberally reapplying lubricant, until Link was wet and pliant under his hands. 

Nipping at his shoulder, Link pushed for him to get a move on. Another order for patience, this time with a warning slap against his upper thigh, Ghirahim pulled away and adjusted Link over his cock.

"Still cold?"

"No, I'm burning up, I need you," He keened, struggling against Ghirahim hands holding him back. Ghirahim laughed, ever so slowly lowering him down, sighing as he buried himself in Link's tight heat. 

Though Link had been pushy, he stayed still for a moment, arms wrapped around Ghirahim's shoulders, letting himself adjust as he sank down to the base. Shifting to test his limits, he let out a shaky breath, allowing himself to be guided back up to the tip.

"Please." He begged softly, anchoring himself on Ghirahim's shoulder. "I want to make you come."

"Go ahead." 

Taking initiative, Link began to bounce, pressing on Ghirahim's shoulders until he was laying down. Overtop of him, he had better control of his movements, swirling his hips as he continued taking the length.

Ghirahim watched with hooded eyes as Link lost himself to the pleasure, hands on hips little more than for show as he took over. He didn't think he would last long, and knew Link was not trying to draw this out.

Everything was going to be closed tomorrow. They had the whole night.

Ghirahim slipped his hand across Link's soft belly, tracing down to tease at his thick thighs. Giving him what he wanted, he wrapped a fist around Link's cock.

"O-oh! I'm not going to last if you do that..." Link moaned, motions halting as Ghirahim brushed his thumb over the tip. 

"Keep going, I'm close too." Ghirahim assured, pumping Link's cock and tugging at his hip in coaxing motions. Link nodded in answer, gulping before moving again.

He tried to keep a steady pace, but it was hard with Ghirahim whispering dirty praises and giving him such wonderful attention. Going rigid, tiny contractions fluttering over his body, Link gasped, struggling for breath as Ghirahim worked him through an orgasm.

"So beautiful Link, so— _mmmm"_ Ghirahim murmured as Link clenched around him, hissing as he too reached a climax. Link whined above him, blissed out at the feeling of Ghirahim finishing inside him.

He rolled off a moment later, feeling himself already cooling down and catching a chill. He pulled the nearest blanket over the both of them, cuddling close.

"Amazing, as always." He whispered, stroking faint patterns on Ghirahim's chest. 

"Thanks to you. I'll give credit where credit's due." Ghirahim sighed back, content to have Link so close. He pressed his nose into Link's fluffy hair, the scent of his shampoo always comforting.

In the flickering candle light, Link could still see the snow racing past the window. It would be so pretty in the morning, if not a pain to deal with, but for now they were safe inside.

"So, Ghirahim. Skyloft power outages to your liking?"

"Certainly beats Hyrule's." He smirked, face still pressed into Link's hair. Pulling away to tug him into a kiss, Ghirahim followed up with, "Then again, I'm sure you could make even one of those bearable."

Link giggled, nosing at his jaw. "As long as I'm with you, yeah."

Though their eyes were closed, the change to bright light was apparent. Link shot up, blinking at the over head light, before bursting out laughing. 

"Guess you don't have to go out to the generator after all, huh?"

"Guess not." Ghirahim smiled, kissing him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: deleted the end note oops but it was "it's not even november but fuck it winter chapter. I think this would probably take place a few years after the college AU :)"


	29. Such Wow. Many Normal. Very Oops.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Accidents | ~~Hunting Season~~ | ~~Mugged~~
> 
> Post Game Two Swords AU

"Oops."

"Ghirahim, what the hell."

Link sighed, setting down his quill. The mess of paper and ink that was now scattered over the floor would be a bitch to clean up, and though he was the source of the mess, his sword spirit would not be making up for his "mistake" any time soon. Looking over at Fi, Link seemed to ask 'can you believe him?' for the hundredth time. 

"I don't have hands, I can't help." 

Sighing again, just to make sure they both knew he was displeased, Link turned back to his homework. Why he expected to get it done, was a mystery.

"What are you possibly doing that could be so important?" Ghirahim drawled, draping himself over the back of Link's chair. Writing stopped once more, Link took a deep breath before answering,

"Homework. I want to pass the class this time, you know, since they're making me take it over again. Because someone couldn't wait a literal six months until I had properly graduated."

"From what I've heard, you would've slept through it anyway." The demon remarked, annoyingly messing with Link's hair now. He ignored the insult, though it was getting harder to concentrate on the jumbled words.

"Your handwriting is atrocious, what are you even writing about?"

Okay, that was enough. Link leaned back from the desk, dislodging Ghirahim from his place, and turned to his other sword spirit. 

"Fi, help me out here."

"I'll be honest, Master Link, Ghirahim is right to say it's not the most productive thing you could be doing."

Great. Now they were both ganging up on him. Link shook his head, trying to get back to work, but it was futile when Ghirahim snapped out of sight.

Appearing next to him, sitting cross legged on the desk, Ghirahim casually set a hand down on Link's essay, staring at his frustrated face with an eyebrow raised.

"No."

The paper started to slide off the table, his writing already smeared.

"Ghirahim."

The ink bottle precariously getting dragged along, slipping dangerously closer and closer to the edge.

"Don't."

It shattered on the ground. Link shut his eyes, afraid to look at the mess.

"My bad."

Link groaned, tipping back in his chair until he nearly fell over. The sound of clinking diamonds, and he yelped as it was tugged from beneath him, sending him crashing down next to the mess from earlier.

"You should be thanking me. I've saved you from another hour or so of boredom."

"I'll still have to do it! I had, like, one good paragraph, okay!"

Link yelled, though he was admittedly not looking forward to finishing it. 

"Fi, c'mon, you're the rational one. I need to work on my schoolwork."

"You go to a knight academy." She simply put. "Swordplay is schoolwork."

Oh. So she was _in on this_. Giving in, Link took the hint, and rose from the ground.

"Fine, let's go."

Ghirahim practically _purred_ as he cozied up next to Link, materializing his sword and handing it over. Taking the blade, and the Master Sword as well, Link made his way to the training yard.

"Next time you want attention, don't destroy my stuff, okay?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had the whole weekend to take a quiz and still turned it in two hours late. Proceeded to write this in.... twenty minutes??? This is barely proof read I'm so sorry for the typos lol 
> 
> ALso this was meant to be something dark and angsty but then I went... not today.


	30. (18+) I Think I Need A Doctor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  ~~Intubation~~ | Emergency Room | Reluctant Bedrest
> 
> Thrilling conclusion to the [College AU](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26235385/chapters/65485339), bringing it full circle.
> 
> Heavy smut (FINALLLY)

It's well past midnight when the knock comes at his door.

Ghirahim ignores it, because even though it's not his roommate locking himself out again, it's probably something much worse.

" _Ghirahim!_ Open this door right now, _I swear to Hylia!"_

* * *

He never thought he'd return here.

It looks the same. Nothing's changed.

No one's changed, Ghirahim thinks as he rounds the corner. The ornate exterior holds darker secrets, ones he had thought he was leaving in the past. Guess not.

He's shrouded in darkness, but it's still not enough to hide his identity. It's safer for him if he doesn't, anyway. Nothing left to hide anymore.

"Look at you. Never thought you'd come crawling back here."

Deep breath. Don't snap, he needs them on his side.

"I'm staging an attack against Cia tonight. You want in on it?"

His only answer is a low chuckle, dark and brooding as it's owner. There's more people in the dimly lit room, and if he cared to try he could name them all. He doesn't, and as long as he can get one or two more on his side he's fine.

"Never thought you'd turn traitor, Ghirahim." Volga remarks casually, but the insult is there. Gritting his teeth, he ignores it. 

Mostly.

"Yeah? At least this time _I'll_ get away with it." 

Undeterred and only smirking that Ghirahim took the bait, his once ally continues on. "But then again you were pretty upset about getting cut off by your sugar daddy, so you went to the only chick that didn't care about the law to get back at him. Trying to regain his favor? Hate to break it to you, but Ganondorf's in charge now. No one knows what happened to your—

"Shut the fuck up, this isn't about Demise. Do you want to take Cia down a notch or not?"

Volga acts as if he's pondering the question, stoking his chin with such mockery Ghirahim has to hold back his growl. Finally, the man shrugs, as if Ghirahim hadn't asked him risk his life for petty revenge. 

"Why not? It's been a little boring around here. Whaddya say, Wiz? Want to get back at that bitch for what's she's done?"

From the darkness steps another reason Ghirahim doesn't sleep at night. He groans in defeat, angered and humiliated by the laughter that ensues.

"Thought you'd never ask!"

* * *

"Quick in, quick out, do **not** kill her."

"Aw, that's no fun!"

"Shut up, all this is supposed to do is intimidate her." Ghirahim takes a deep breath, he had forgotten how brash Wizzro could be. "She's got the knights on her side, if you get caught for murder, we're all getting taken down." 

"And you've got a problem with that?" 

Ignoring Volga's question, meant to incite an argument and get him to spill things he'd rather keep secret, Ghirahim checks his phone for the fifth time.

"Zant's got a couple detonators on the west side of the building. On my signal, he'll cause a distraction and we can get in alright."

"You managed to pull him from Ganon?"

He thinks of missed rent payments and forgotten keys. "He owes me a couple favors."

They wait in silence for a few more minutes, watching for some sign Cia is in the abandoned temple she calls a base. He's not here to kill her, but if he takes out a couple of her turncoat minions in the process, who cares.

Less competition for Link.

It's sacrilege to even consider what he's about to do, and he thinks of his perfect Hylian boyfriend who never misses a goddess statue and still believes in shit like the triforce and destiny. He almost feels guilty.

But what Cia's doing is worse. This is justifiable. So he tells himself.

A flicker of light by the sanctum. All the proof he needs she's doing some witchy shit.

"Alright we have two minutes before—"

The booming explosion and flash of light come all too quickly.

" _Fuck!_ Zant, you fucking— Guess we don't have time anymore, Wizzro get your ass to where you're supposed to be!" Ghirahim hisses, motioning for him to go.

"Never thought I'd be taking orders from you, but it's good to be back!" The rat of a man speeds off, cackling like he's possessed. 

"And I never thought I'd have to deal with your grating voice again, dear." Ghirahim smiles sweetly, forcing the bile back down his throat. He hates the lot of them, and if it weren't for the fact he hates Cia more, they'd be dead in a ditch before dawn. He's changed, he's not killing anyone tonight. He promised. "Now hurry the fuck up."

Carefully planned and sloppily executed distractions out of the way, Ghirahim and Volga start the search for Cia. 

It's dark as they traverse through the abandoned hallways, not meeting any guard dogs along the way. The plan had worked, to get in undetected, and get to Cia unseen. 

He's betting a lot on her dedication to the dark arts, hoping she's too much of a coward to stop her stupid fake spell or whatever until he can get to her.

It's awkward, silently walking alongside Volga, the man having nearly a foot on him and following so closely behind. He's nervous, hand already reaching for the hidden dagger. Just in case. 

"So you say you've changed, Sword."

"Fuck off with the code names, it's not like all of Hyrule doesn't know who we are." Ghirahim mutters, but he's met with jests that he's just bitter.

"It's been a while, but you don't seem to have forgotten anything. How's your so called straight and easy life treating you?"

He doesn't grace him with an answer.

"You know, Ghirahim, if you wanted to come back," The man begins, drawing out the question as he brushes past. Ghirahim tenses as their arms come in contact. "All you had to do is ask." 

Even in the dark he can see him turn back with a wink, and it takes all of Ghirahim's strength to not blurt out 'I have a boyfriend!' Deep breaths, think of Link.

Keeping Link safe is more important. His hand tightens around the dagger.

"Let's just find Cia."

* * *

As he had hoped, she was still in the sanctum, guarded only by two faceless strangers clothed in black. 

They're easy to take down, and Ghirahim doesn't want to find out if Volga listened and only knocked them out. He's got his sights on a better prize, honing in on the self proclaimed witch.

"You're messing with things far out of your control, you imbecile!" She screeches, hands still holding an open book. For good measure, Ghirahim kicks away one of the candles of her circle. He never believed in this shit anyway.

"And what do you expect to do about it? You never were good a fighting, always had others doing your dirty work for you." He coos, playing with the tip of the dagger. He's trying for a very nuanced persona, if he lets slip how terrified he is of messing up it'll all go to hell.

"It's been years, move on, asshole." She grits out, still trying to continue her 'dark magic'. Her eyes flick around for an exit, and he knows he has her cornered.

"Hmm, no. I've run into some trouble recently, trouble that could have been avoided if it weren't for your meddling, and I've been very... displeased about this."

He thinks he's being vague enough, there's a million things she could have caused. He smiles triumphantly, but it falters when she doesn't have the intended expression.

There's not much time, even with Volga guarding the door (at least, he's _supposed_ to be), he needs to get it to where she is at his mercy. He doesn't plan to kill her, but she doesn't need to know that.

Snapping her book closed, and muttering something about spirits descending on he who interrupts the rituals, she turns to him with much less fear than is wanted.

"This is about Link, isn't it? I was right?"

She smiles, and though he thought he hadn't reacted, Ghirahim curses himself. She knows, and it's too late.

"He really was seeing you on the side, what a fucking slut."

"Don't call him that!" Ghirahim snaps, and in a flash the dagger is pressed against her neck. She hadn't even been that close, it's evident she wasn't expecting this.

"Don't you fucking dare, you don't even deserve to say his name." He spits, and for a second Cia looks _terrified_. The moment passes, the skin not even broken, and she realizes he's not going to kill her.

"Aw, how cute." She purrs, and Ghirahim's snarl falters once again. He digs the knife in deeper, but the threat is gone. She knows.

"Makes sense he'd fall for a whore like you." She laughs, scratching a long nail down his cheek. He wishes he could say he doesn't react, but the whispered "takes one to know one" only has her sneering wider.

"Not your usual type, right? He's just... so small, so innocent..." Cia sighs, and Ghirahim's hand is shaking. He's not going to kill her. He promised.

"Such a shame. I wonder what would hurt worse, you never coming back, or him?"

"Enough!" He shouts, and the skin finally breaks. Cia looks surprised, gasping as he slices a thin line. She's bleeding, but she'll live. This was a bad idea.

Panting heavily, he draws away, holding himself back. 

"Leave him alone." 

In her shock, she nods. Maybe not a total waste. He turns his back on her. It's risky, but a message she needs to know. He's not afraid of her. 

Straightening himself up, Ghirahim makes to leave the room. He's nearly there, when the click of a loaded gun resounds through the chamber.

The shot is taken.

Everything's a blur.

He spins around faster than he thought possible, throwing knife out of his hand and lodging into the wall where her head used to be. It missed.

He missed.

He missed, but he's still alive. 

She.... she didn't miss.

Cia is lying motionless on the ground, and Ghirahim's head snaps towards Volga.

"There. It's done."

"I had it covered!"

"No you didn't. You've gone soft." An afterthought, he adds, "Makes sense, given your change of taste in partners."

Ghirahim is on the verge of hyperventilating. Cia's still breathing, maybe, but she's out clean. He hadn't meant to kill her, killing her was more trouble than she's worth.

They've already been here to long. Pulling at his hair, Ghirahim turns on the man with a murderous look in his eyes. 

"Do you realize what you've done? Alive, she would've kept quiet. _Dead_ , she'll have people looking into this!"

He hadn't been planning to cover up a murder. He wasn't trying to hide this, there were tracks everywhere. Any competent knight could take one look at this and have it in the bag.

Before he knows it, he's pulling out another knife, and he's fighting with Volga. He can barley think, it's no use trying. Maybe he gets a few hits in, maybe he got hit and slashed a couple more times than he used to. He's gone blind with rage, and next thing he knows he's got a dagger in Volga's neck.

Sloppy. He missed a major artery. Volga might live if he lets him.

But what's one more murder?

No.

_He promised._

_He promised **Link.**_

Just enough sense to leave the dagger in the wound, Ghirahim backs away, blood soaking his hands.

"Don't... fucking... test me."

His words shake, he's coming down from the adrenaline high and crashing rapidly. There's a siren, and his phone is lighting up with angry texts from Zant. He ditched, got out and is well away. Snarling, Ghirahim turns back Volga, but it's no use.

"I'm out of this. This was the last time, you hear? If you get any ideas about coming near me, or..."

"Or your _Link_."

"Yes, or Link, then I will not hesitate to kill you or anyone else who thinks they can underestimate me. I have not, as you say, 'gone soft.' I simply don't care enough to find your pitiful lives worthy of my time."

He says it with such conviction Volga's defense falters. He reaches for the dagger, making to pull it out (stupid—its not tough to die) an intimidation tactic that has never worked on Ghirahim.

"Yeah? Well..."

Ghirahim is gone before he finishes his sentence.

* * *

" _Ghirahim_ , it's me, let me in!"

Relived its only Link, Ghirahim throws open the door, immediately tackled in a hug. 

"I just—the emergency news, that can't be the full story—what did you _do?"_

"It doesn't matter." Ghirahim sighs, locking the door behind him. "It's over now, and you don't have to deal with her anymore."

"Oh, my goddess, did you kill her?"

Looking into Link's wide eyes, at least he can answer truthfully, "No, but I don't know if she's still alive."

It's as much as he's going to say. Link has gotten farther into this mess than he ever should have, but it's in the past now. "Don't worry about it. It's not your problem anymore."

"I don't want it to be your problem either." Link pleads, and he looks like he's on the verge of tears.

"It's not. You're safe, I'm safe, we're safe. We're safe."

Held in his arms, Link seems to accept this. In the coming days Ghirahim knows he'll have to tell him more, and eventually find out if Cia made it out or not, but for now, they **are** safe, and Link feels like home. 

He hadn't bothered to turn on many lights, licking his few wounds in the dark, but the streetlights outside cast an orange glow through the thin curtains. Its enough to reveal the bandages. Link gently traces one on his bicep, one he didn't remember getting but found himself bleeding nonetheless.

Link sniffs once, turning his head from Ghirahim's shoulder to mumble into the dark, "I have no idea what you just did, but it wasn't good. Emergency room, right now, just to be safe."

"Link, I'm _fine_."

It's clear he doesn't believe him. Sighing, Ghirahim leads Link farther into the apartment, heading for the bedroom where he flicks on the light. Just to be sure.

"You can't drive anyway, how do you expect to get there?"

Huffing, Link inspects the few bandages and glances over his body like he's going to find some hidden gash seeping blood, but Ghirahim had been careful. Mostly. 

"Fine. No hospital, but I'm staying here. There was an explosion. You could have died."

He could have died for a lot of reasons, but the explosion was not one of them.

"Oh, darling, I was the cause of it."

Link isn't looking straight at him, but he sees his eyes widen in a mix of shock and fear. Ghirahim hesitates, wondering if that was the wrong thing to say, but Link brushes it off a moment later.

"I don't care. If nothing else, it was emotionally taxing, I'm sure you're exhausted."

"Not really."

He shrugs, and it's the truth. He's much too wound up to sleep. 

Link has a strange look in his eye, and Ghirahim is admittedly nervous by it. There's a question of if he's okay, but Link doesn't answer.

"You should still rest." He murmurs, frowning when Ghirahim offers a noise of disagreement. 

Link pushes him towards the bed, not taking no for an answer. Shoved over, Ghirahim reclines on his arms while Link stands over him, an unreadable expression on his face. When Link speaks again, he's nervous, words choppy and halting. 

"If you're not going to listen and lie down, I guess I'll have to... make you." 

He mumbles something Ghirahim fails to hear.

"Excuse me?"

"I don't care. No more interruptions, no more waiting, we're doing this now."

That's not what he said first, but Ghirahim is more interested now. Sitting up farther, he tilts his head in question, smiling as the blush forms on Link's face. 

"I want you to fuck me." Link says quickly, like he wants to say it before he changes his mind. Ghirahim can see him visibly swallow, press his tongue against his cheek, and take a deep breath. "If you want. But I want to, and I don't want anymore distractions."

He had been looking everywhere but Ghirahim, and now he locks gazes and stares him down, hopeful and anxious. Sighing, Ghirahim beckons him forward.

"Of course. We've waited long enough."

His boyfriend is practically vibrating when he steps toward the bed, but frozen between his legs, Link stops before Ghirahim can get a hand on him.

"Ah, no. You're _hurt_. Let me take care of this."

With a little smirk, Link steps back again. He's blushing furiously, fiddling with the edge of his shirt.

Link sucks in a short breath. In a swift movement, his shirt comes over his head, tossed aside somewhere that will be hard to find later. Cocking an eyebrow, Ghirahim sits back to enjoy the show.

Link is adorably awkward as he runs a hand up his side, reaching past his ear and messing with his hair as he tugs at his waistband. He's strong, but not incredibly muscular, and Ghirahim knows those tight jeans are hiding wonderfully plush thighs.

Turning around with a swing of his hips, Link lets the jeans slide to to floor, bunching around his ankles as he struggles to get them off without falling over. Ghirahim chuckles, and he's sent a halfhearted glare over his shoulder.

Pants out of the way, Link's hands hover of the waistband of his shorts. His shoulders set back, and with a fluid motion, they're on the floor as well. 

"You're beautiful."

Link spins around, flushed all the way across his chest, when Ghirahim can't keep himself from murmuring.

"Come here."

He obeys, stepping between his legs, his own gently squeezing together in embarrassment. Ghirahim runs a hand across his side, grinning as Link shivers.

"Hey. It's okay. I know you're nervous." He coos, guiding Link's hand to his own shirt. "And we can stop at any time. This is about you."

Link nods. His hands dip under the soft cotton, helping Ghirahim get it off.

A light touch brushes over a bandage, worried look crossing his face.

"Nothing serious." Ghirahim assures, moving him down to his hips. "No stitches to pop. Don't worry about it."

He can tell Link still does, but his boyfriend's focus has shifted. Fists bunched in jeans and shorts, Link drags down and off, eyes averted.

"Link. Look at me." Ghirahim sighs, sitting up again. "I know you want this, but you don't seem confident. I know _I'm_ not rushing you, so I'll ask: are you rushing yourself?"

Link says no, but his body language says otherwise. He's worrying his lip, his hands restless and fidgety.

"Sit down." Ghirahim orders, patting next to him. Following the request, Link leans into his side, relaxing as he strokes his arm.

"Do you want to talk?"

"I'm scared." Link begins, "Of losing you. I saw the news and... and..."

"Link, it's okay, you're okay."

"Yeah. Yeah, we're okay." He mutters, continuing, "And I... I really want to do this, with you. I've never before, I want you to be my first. Maybe only. Something's always in the way, I need to get this over with while I can. And that won't happen if you keep..."

Ghirahim laughs, but it's a gentle, coaxing laugh.

"Link, it's fine, I'm fine. I'm here for you, whenever you want me, I'm not going anywhere." He reassures, brushing a tear from across his partner's cheek. "When you're ready."

"I am!" Link argues, sitting back up. "I'm ready now, I swear! I'm sorry, but honestly I'm scared of this too!" 

A little surprised at his outburst, Ghirahim leans back, but he's smiling with a hand still on Link's cheek.

"Okay. Tonight it is." He chuckles, pulling him in for a kiss. Just a quick, gentle press of their lips, before he pulls back and comforts, "It's not really our first time. If that makes you feel better. Remember that night you first came to my doorstep? We've already had sex, more than once." Ghirahim scoffs, and Link is calming down. "Stop putting so much pressure on this as something you _have_ to do, and make it something you _want_ to."

Link nods, but he stays silent. 

"Let me take over, okay? There will be plenty of other times for you to boss me around." Ghirahim smirks, and the blush is back on Link's face. Good.

Trailing a hand down his body, Ghirahim relishes the shiver, happy to see Link responding under his hand. He's gentle, stroking his cock until it hardens, whispering encouraging praise into a pointed ear.

"That's right. I'm here, let me take care of you."

He's skilled and firm as he pumps Link to full hardness, playing with the tip and spreading the wet beads that form there over his palm. Smirking at him, Ghirahim drops his head down, sucking Link in to the root.

Above him, Link cries out, a hand reaching into his hair for support. With every jolt he sends through Link's body, he tugs his hair, and it's enough for Ghirahim to grow hard as well. 

He finishes Link off without teasing him, swallowing around him as he comes, barely a drop getting on his bedsheets. Ghirahim plans to make him come again, and if he's lucky, again before the night ends. 

It's not meant to be overwhelming or spectacular, and Link barley makes a sound when he climaxes. He pants as he's pulled in for another kiss, moaning as Ghirahim pushes a tongue coated with himself into his mouth. Biting at his partner's lip, Ghirahim groans, reaching around to caresses Link's rear.

"Are you still up for this?"

"Yes!" Link cries, rutting his spent cock against Ghirahim's stomach in an attempt to seem enthusiastic. Ghirahim gives him a dark chuckle, leaning back to pull open the bedside drawer.

"Have you ever tried fingering yourself before?"

Link squeaks, but as he hides his face in his hands nodding, Ghirahim grins up at him. "Good. That will make it easier, and I may even get inside of you tonight."

Gasping, Link pulls his hands away, nodding quickly as he trembles in anticipation. In a swift motion, Ghirahim reverses their places, pinning his boyfriend to the bed.

"Don't hold back for me, I want to hear you." Ghirahim purrs, leaning down to whisper it in Link's ear. He's graced with a loud moan, rewarded with a bite at his neck. "Deafen yourself with the sound of your own screams."

Link whimpers and cries as Ghirahim teases him, stoking and pulling at different parts of his body until he's between his legs, pushing up his knees and caressing his inner thighs. Link whines again, wiggling his hips in a silent beg.

"So impatient." Ghirahim chastises, but he's popping open the cap of the lube. Link's eyes fly open at the sound, panting as he watches the clear liquid pour across Ghirahim's fingers.

"Should I make you work for this? Make you again come under my fingers before you earn my cock?"

"Ghirahim, _please_ ," Link wails, knees squeezing around his boyfriend's body. Chuckling darkly, Ghirahim gives him what he wants.

At first, it's just a finger. Just a careful in and out as Link adjusts, giving him a feel for what he's in for. Link shallows his discomfort, begging softly for more.

Instead of adding another, Ghirahim strokes his walls, stretching out the rim and massaging the tight ring to a point it doesn't burn for Link anymore. Then, he adds another, a third, venturing to even add a fourth as Link responds so beautifully beneath him, twitching and moaning as he searches deep within him.

It's obvious when he find what he's looking for. Link bucks his hips, cries out, and babbles a few more pleas of 'oh, there, please there'. Grin widening, Ghirahim refuses to listen.

Pulling out, he scoffs at Link's needy cry, giving him a light slap on his thigh.

"Can you wait long enough for me to prepare myself?" He asks exasperatedly, though he's just teasing. Embarrassed, Link nods, burying his face in a pillow. 

His ears twitch at the sound of a condom ripping open, at the slick sound of Ghirahim applying more lube. He jumps as more is spread across his stretched hole, whining as a finger dips in before he's left empty again. 

Ghirahim's lined up against him when he reaches for his cock, demanding his attention.

"Let me see your face." He orders, and Link's head pops up from the pillow he's hugging tight. He's aglow with a flush, cheeks so dark he can barely see the freckles that dot across his nose.

"Hmm." Ghirahim sighs, waiting a moment longer as Link smiles up at him, giving him the go ahead. "So perfect."

Pressing in gently, he stops, lets Link adjust, and waits for him to nod for more. He reaches the base as he leans over top him, pressing him down with a heated kiss.

Panting, he draws back, forehead pressed to Link's. He smiles against his lips.

"Does it get better?"

"Yes!" Ghirahim laughs breathlessly, holding him close. Link echoes him, a few short laughs, nervous but happy as Ghirahim starts to slide out.

He thrusts in again, grinning at Link's broken cry as he bottoms out so soon.

"Ghirahim!" His boyfriend yells, so loud and undeterred, and it's music to his ears. It's not long before he's able to keep him moaning his name, piercing him with such precision he's hitting the nerves dead on. 

Link is a mess, moaning and screaming his name, any earlier embarrassment gone. He's in a state of bliss, responding to praise with praise of his own, laughing every so often as pleasure is forced upon him.

"Ghirahim, please," He moans, shaking as he meets each thrust with one of his own, "Please, touch me, goddess, I'm so close, oh, please."

Happy to oblige, all Ghirahim has to do is wrap his hand around him and Link is shouting his name, quivering and clenching around him.

He hasn't come yet himself, but he's willing to end this and let Link rest. 

"Do you want to stop?"

"No!" Link begs, surging up to kiss him. He pulls away with swollen lips and stolen breath, and softer, repeats, "No. I want... I want you to come inside me."

Ghirahim sighs, nearly unable to deny such a sweet request. Kissing him once more, he whispers an apology, but the condom is staying on. Link accepts without argument, and lies back down.

"I can still make this more interesting for you."

A questioning look, and Link gasps as Ghirahim pulls out, pushing at his hips. "Roll over, on your knees."

Breathing heavily, Link does as he's told, sticking his bottom up and grinding against him. Ghirahim groans himself, and from this new position, pushes in.

Link is more vocal from here, even if Ghirahim can't hear it as well. His shaking arms give out, and he's holding tight to the pillows and bedspread and he moans and begs.

"Oh, Ghirahim, this is— _yes, there!_ —better than I imagined, oh please—" He cries, jerking lightly as Ghirahim runs a hand down his spine. It tangles in his hair, pulling, and Link moans even louder.

The walls aren't thin, but Ghirahim smirks at the thought someone might hear his Link in such pleasure. He doesn't bring it up.

It doesn't take long now for him to reach a climax, holding Link down through it. He's coming, he's growling Link's name, head pressed in his nape as he holds him there. Link keens at the constant pressure. 

Still inside, Ghirahim nips at his skin once, and wraps around to stroke him again. Link is hard, and by the sound of it, nearly there _again._ He almost degrades him for it, something he would find hot if done to himself, but thinks Link may not. He'll talk to him later.

Link is incoherent as he spills over his hand, something akin to thankfulness falling from his lips. Chuckling, Ghirahim pulls out, flipping him over to and crashing next to him on the bed.

"Wow. Three times." Ghirahim teases, pressing light kisses to his cheeks. Link laughs, breathless and happy, as he hugs him close.

"I didn't know I could." He admits, nuzzling into Ghirahim's neck. He sighs, content, as he relaxes in the afterglow.

Ghirahim strokes his hair, letting him rest for a moment. "Look, I'm not trying to rush you, but it is best to clean this off sooner rather than later."

Link's cheeks are hot against his skin. 

"And you're going to drink water, no iced coffee for either of us." 

Link laughs, sweet giggles as he burrows closer.

"Thank you. For everything." He whispers, cuddled against his body. Ghirahim sighs, threading his fingers through his hair. 

"I never—I thought you hated me. I mean I know now you don't, but..." Link jokes, but there's insecurity underneath it.

"I thought I did. Never really hated you, even in the beginning." Ghirahim mentions, assuring him it's not the case. "And you know what? After tonight, I'd go as far as saying I love you." 

Link sucks in a tiny gasp, tightening his grip around Ghirahim. Smiling, Ghirahim lets go long enough for Link to forcefully pull himself up, dragging him into a bruising kiss.

"Goddess, Ghirahim, yes, I love you too." He smiles breathlessly, overjoyed and teary. Another quick kiss, and Link repeats once more, "I love you."

There will be time, Ghirahim thinks, for them to talk things through. He's not going to hide anything from him, not anymore. He can promise he'll be there for Link, and they can start to plan a real future together.

It's different. Frightening, to think of what comes next. He had never made it this far before, live fast die young attitude always getting in the way of real companionship. But Link is here, _now_ , and there's no use dwelling on what's gone and what's to come.

He needs new bandages. And will need more pain medication soon. But for now, Ghirahim is content to let Link rest in his arms, thanking all the goddesses he answered the door when he did.


	31. Now Where Did That Come From?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wound Reveal | Ignoring an Injury | Internal Organ Injury
> 
> Post game master/sword AU

Link is careless when he lets the sword graze his side.

He's even more so when he's knocked over by another, a harsh awakening that Ghirahim really had been holding back on him before.

"Okay, okay! Stop!" He yells, surrendering to his sword. Ghirahim ceases, but the disappointment is clear.

"How you managed to defeat Demise, I will never know." He mutters, leaving Link sprawled across the ground. "At this rate you will never wield my blade."

Training over for the day, Link catches his breath, watching Ghirahim saunter away with less superiority than usual.

* * *

It's been hours, but Link's still very much in pain. His side was bleeding earlier where Ghirahim hit him, but he thinks there's something worse, something ruptured under the skin.

He doesn't tell Ghirahim, some sense of pride overpowering self preservation. He ignores it, and goes about his day.

He's only had Ghirahim as his sword for a month, and they've avoided fighting each other since then. Ghirahim had been hinting he wanted Link to actually wield his blade, despite such previous insistence on autonomy, and that he would be willing to teach him to use the sword twice his size. At first, Link was unsure, but he had given in.

Before Ghirahim had even let him pick it up, he had been adamant Link needed to be a true swordmaster. It was clear now he has a long way to go. 

It's strange, having Ghirahim around. It's been so little time, but they've made up for all the lost hours in a few short weeks. Link doesn't see him as a sword, and Ghirahim doesn't see him as a master, but they are... friendly.

That's a _serious_ understatement.

He's cooking dinner in the house they've moved into, even his honestly horrible cooking skills no match for the easiest pumpkin soup in existence (spoiler alert: it's leftovers from the lumpy pumpkin and all he has to do is _not_ burn them). He hears the door open, turning to Ghirahim with a smile before he remembers the spirit is mad at him. Link turns back to the stove.

His side hurts.

The soup bubbles, signaling it's hot again, and Link sighs, reaching for bowls to spoon it into. They're too high, as always, but he's not about to ask Ghirahim to get them. 

Struggling to reach, Link stands on his tip toes, ignoring the pain in his side. He feels something stretch, blood pricking out. Damn.

And he still can't get the bowls.

He's about to climb on the counter when a gloved hand reaches around him, successfully taking the bowls off the shelf.

"I'm sorry." Ghirahim whispers into his hair, coming up behind him and wrapping his other arm around his side. "I was too harsh on you. I didn't mean—Link? What's wrong?"

Link was able to hold in a gasp when Ghirahim put pressure on his side, but he's wincing in pain as it goes on. Ducking away, Link shakes his head in denial, ignoring the burn that aches down his side.

"Nothing, I'm fine," he pants, but his face is scrunched in pain. It's harder to breath, and he quickly goes to hide the slight stain on his shirt. "Just... almost burnt myself on the stove."

Ghirahim cocks an eyebrow, sneering as he can tell Link is lying. "Really."

He holds up a hand coated in blood. "Then what's this?"

Link doesn't answer. He can't think of an excuse.

"It's fine. I'll go fix it." He says, trying to leave, but Ghirahim blocks his path as he teleports in front of him.

"When did this happen?"

"When do you think?" Link snaps from the pain, sucking in a deep breath after. "I'm sorry, it was earlier, you cut me, it's fine though."

"Link, this is not fine!" Ghirahim argues, pulling up Link's shirt to reveal the gash in his side. There are already purple and green bruises around it, stretching across his abs and down towards his hip.

"Hylia, fuck." Ghirahim mutters, a hand reaching out to press into one of the bruises. Link flinches away, pulling his shirt down.

"I'll be fine, just let me put something on it.

"No, there's something much worse. Stay put." Ghirahim demands, a heavy hand on Link's shoulder. He tries to jerk his arm out of his, but Ghirahim's palm is pressed against his wound, causing Link to cry out in pain. He buckles under the pressure, leaning into Ghirahim for support.

"Internal bleeding, blunt force trauma. You should've had me check this ages ago." Ghirahim chastises, and Link is reminded that he is a sword spirit, and just as Fi had, will warn him when he's hurt. 

"I didn't... I didn't have any other symptoms." He whines, still in pain from Ghirahim's palm against him. The demon presses in harder, and Link nearly screams when he feels a burn directly on his wound.

"What are you doing?"

"Healing it. Somewhat. You'll still need a potion, healing magic is not as precise unless it's concentrated." 

Gasping, Link claws at his shoulders, gritting his teeth as the burn worsens. It's similar to the way potions stitch him up, so at least its familiar. 

He's happy to say he doesn't cry until Ghirahim's finished, a few tears escaping as he sighs in relief. Yelping as he's picked up and dropped down on his bed, Link stutters, disoriented.

"Th-the stove is still—"

"I'll get it." Ghirahim assures, hand raised to snap. He looks down at Link, and sighs.

"Look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. And I didn't—I didn't mean it when I said you would never wield my blade." The demon looks away, a slight flush to his cheeks as he apologizes. "I think you're... untrained, unrefined. But you're strong, and I'm simply not used to the way you fight. We'll work this out."

Smiling, Ghirahim reaches a hand out to cup his face.

"Why didn't you tell me I hurt you sooner?"

"I thought you'd be mad." Link admits, gingerly placing a hand on his side. "That you'd think me weak. I want—I want you to be proud of me."

He's the one blushing now, heart fluttering as Ghirahim brushes his thumb over his cheek.

"Oh, Link." Ghirahim sighs, shaking his head. "I'm not mad, not this time. I'm just... not used to having a master who is so openly vulnerable. I assure you, I find this to be one of your most valuable qualities."

Patting him once, Ghirahim teleports away. When he comes back, it will be with soup and potions, and he'll act like he's not enjoying treating Link with care. Link will put up a reluctant fight, not really meaning it, and he'll give in to his ministrations. 

A hand comes up to where Ghirahim's touch still lingers. He smiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ONE MORE


	32. (18+) Today's Special: Torture

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Experiment | Whipped | ~~Left for Dead~~
> 
> heavy smut to close this off
> 
> post game master/sword au, got a little OOC at the end. Overly soft is not a bad thing despite what a lot of the fandom thinks

"You want me to _what?"_

"It's just a suggestion! Only if, only if you're comfortable, I just thought—I mean, we could be a little more—not that I don't like having sex with you! I like it! A lot!" Link rambles, furiously blushing and regretting every moment in his life that has led up to this.

He hides his face behind his free hand.

"I want you to whip me. If you're comfortable with it."

Ghirahim's eyebrow raises, tongue creeping out over his sharp teeth.

"Master..." His eyes drop low, suggestive gaze making Link blush more. "I had no idea you were so... "

Link squirms as he waits for Ghirahim to complete his analysis. He's well aware Ghirahim is looking him over, possibly already imagining him naked and trembling under his mercy and—fuck, if Link hadn't been hard before, he was now. 

"Kinky." He finishes, "But why in the goddesses names do you have a whip?"

Embarrassed, Link gives him a short explanation of how it came into his hands in a completely innocent and not sexual way at all, he didn't even think about it like that (much). Ghirahim is silent, watching him closely, and Link fidgets under the attention.

"Okay. Hand it over."

Link's eyes go wide, not really processing he'd make it this far. Still, he pulls his hand from his pouch, whip cold against his palm, and almost feels relief when it leaves his person. Ghirahim examines it with care, taking way more time than he needs to, and Link grows more nervous.

A good nervous, though? 

"Would you prefer to be against the wall, or kneeling on the bed?"

Link squeaks, hiding his face in his hands. Before he can voice an answer, Ghirahim sighs, running a hand over his shoulder in comfort.

"Before we go any further, I want to make sure you _are_ completely comfortable with this. I know you asked but..."

He shakes his head as his hand drifts to Link's face, soothing him with soft motions. Link takes a deep breath, relaxing into his caress.

"Yes. I want to try this, but that's all. Try. I don't know if I'll like it and I need you to understand I may not want to keep going at all." He states firmly, "I need you to tell me you'll stop if I ask. Safe word...?" He hesitates, eyes flicking away uncomfortably. 

"Nothing special. Tell me to stop and I will, tell me to slow down and we'll slow. This is at your pace, Link."

Another deep breath, and Link nods. He can do this. Reaching for the edge of his shirt, he lets Ghirahim help as he strips.

It's not cold, but the change makes Link shiver. Ghirahim has kept his own clothing on, something Link flushes at but only finds more arousing. Steeling his nerves, he turns around, stare set forward as he sinks to his knees.

He's kneeling at the bedside, sitting up so his face is nearly level with the edge. He waits, hands bunched in the quilt, for Ghirahim to start.

"Ready?"

Humming in answer, Link goes tense, anxious and excited as he anticipates what's to come.

The sound startles him more than the pain, a loud crack ringing in his ears as he yelps. The sting blossoms out from a line down his back, sending him arching away but unable to escape.

"Okay?" Ghirahim looks for confirmation, a teasing lilt to his voice. Link whines, realizes he should probably use real words, and answers in agreement. 

He's not given warning when it snaps across his back again, a strike cutting near his side. Link cries out again, jerks away, and struggles to breath. Again, he begs.

There's a pause, a long stretch between this and the next. Link squirms uncomfortably, resisting the urge to look over his shoulder.

"Why exactly are you getting pleasure from this?"

He hadn't been expecting the question. He doesn't have an answer, muttering, "uh, I don't know" and more confused noises.

"The pain?" Ghirahim prompts, and he brings the cord down across Link's back again. He sucks in a shaky breath. "Are you simply turned on by your own hurt, or is there something more?"

He doesn't resist this time, looking back at Ghirahim as the demon brings it down again. He's smirking, something dark in his gaze. Link shivers involuntarily.

"Or...." Ghirahim draws out, maintaining eye contact as he licks across the handle, chuckling at Link's shaky whimper. "Could it be you like being at my mercy?"

His fists pull the blankets close. Link hugs the fabric, nodding in shame as he turns away.

"That's what I thought." Ghirahim says with smug pride in his voice, snapping the whip but not against Link's skin. "How strange it is, to have such control over my master."

There's laughter in his voice, something Link fears and loves at the same time. He shuts his eyes, steadying his breath, as he waits for Ghirahim to move again.

He has this control over him, something he's given willingly. He's had fantasies before of similar situations when they were enemies, when he would never dream of actually acting on them... but this is so much better. It's real, Link thinks, as he rolls his shoulders and takes in the burn, cock heavy and aching between his legs. It's real, and Ghirahim is doing this for him, and they're _both_ enjoying it. 

He whimpers in bliss.

When the next strike comes, it has Link nearly screaming. Completely unexpected, _hard,_ and directly across his rear, Link's mind goes blank. He's barely given time to think of what happened before Ghirahim does it again, pain blossoming across his cheeks, and Link does scream.

The blows come faster. Two across his back, one to his ass, one for each of his thighs. He's shaking, truly crying, and nearing his limit. His back stings, his cock is so hard it's painful, his bottom aches. Link lets Ghirahim keep going, spurred on by gentle praises. It's such a contrast to the pain, he's delirious in it. 

"So good for me, Link." Ghirahim coos, drawing the braided cord across this back again. Link shouts, and collapses further down on his knees. "You're taking this beautifully, such a good boy." 

Link whimpers again at a softer slash against his backside, painful where it hits his tailbone. It's the final straw, and he can't take anymore.

"I'm done. Please stop."

There's no argument. Ghirahim is behind him a second later, picking him up in his arms and whispering harsh praise, dirty things Link will hear in his dreams. Set on the bed, he kisses him, languidly sliding up his broken body, hands running across where the skin is unharmed. Link can definitely feel something poking him before he draws away.

"Do you want to see?"

Link nods, whimpering as he catches his breath.

A slight movement, and Ghirahim is setting him down on his feet, helping steady him as he still struggles to stand.

He looks over his shoulder into the mirror, a slight gasp escaping as he sees a maze of red marks littered from his shoulder blades to his thighs. They look much worse than they feel.

They still sting, yes, and when Ghirahim runs a hand across them he flinches away. But it's a good pain, one Link is enjoying, one he had total control over. Even if Ghirahim was the one hurting him.

Link can't help but think the pink stands out against his skin nicely. He can tell Ghirahim likes it too.

Attention back on Ghirahim, Link reaches up to kiss him.

"Would you do something else for me?" He whispers against his lips, tone deceptively sweet for what's he's about to demand.

"Depends." Ghirahim attempts to be difficult, but he's smiling. "What more do you want?"

"Fuck me."

The statement catches him off guard, which is saying something, because Link thought it was pretty obvious they were headed there. He's met with a dark grin, and in a swift motion, shoved face down against the bed.

"Of course."

Gasping, Link trembles as Ghirahim leans over him, hands planted on either side of his shoulders.

"Is this okay?" The demon whispers into his ear, pressing against him from behind. Link whines his agreement, hips straining to get closer. There's a slight sting where they come in contact with each other.

It takes Ghirahim no time to vanish his clothes, shoving two wet fingers into Link with little patience. His body seizes at the intrusion, eased by magic but still a shock. Heat emanates from Ghirahim's hand, working him open with a little extra help. 

"I'm going to fuck you so hard you can barely stand," Ghirahim promises, yanking his fingers out and causing a deep moan to escape Link. "I'm going to make a mess of you. If it is pain you want, you will only receive it from _me_." 

Link's only able to answer in shaky gasps and breathy whines, an incredible sense of relief washing over him when Ghirahim finally pushes in. He's grateful for the support of the bed, his legs are weak and would surely have given out by now.

It's hard, it's fast, it's everything Ghirahim promised. The pressure inside him and the sting on his skin are so much, too much, _Hylia_ too much as Link takes all Ghirahim has to give, demanding more where he can. The demon's tongue darts out to lick at his lashes, wet stripes across growing bruises. 

He wants release so badly, and he wants Ghirahim to come too. They've built this up, it's pent up inside them, it's sure to explode soon. Link is nearing his climax, he's already feeling torturously teasing flares of pleasure dance throughout his body.

"Ghirahim!" He gasps, frozen as hot waves strike him, an ecstasy he can physically feel racing towards his head. He's moaning, whimpering, muscles fluttering as he's overcome with the feeling, going limp as Ghirahim keeps fucking him.

"Oh, Link, the things you do to me," the demon murmurs, taking him into his hand and stroking him to full completion. He leans forward, bites down on a mark, and Link screams again. 

He's bursting with release a second later. Overfull, overused. Overjoyed.

Spent, Ghirahim pulls from him, leaving Link draped across their bed. Lovingly, he traces Link's marks, whispering more praise.

"I would gladly do this again, if you let me." He purrs, slipping a hand beneath Link's waist and tugging him close. He gracefully falls to the bed with him, breathing him in.

"I will do anything you ask." 

Link gives him a breathy laugh in answer, focusing on the contact of their bodies as his mind soars. He's coming down, riding the high as long as he can, and the real pain is starting to settle in. He can get Ghirahim to coddle him later with a little begging.

For now, he's content to stay put, nuzzled against the other's chest. It's hard to form coherent words, but he's able to mumble his thanks and express his happiness. 

"I love you." 

"I love you too, skychild."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last one!!! DAMN I thought I would drop out halfway through, I can't believe I made it. I've also been doing inktober and schoolwork so it's been a lot.
> 
> Anyway, if you've made it all the way through, thank you!!!!!! If you've only read a couple, thank you too!!!! 
> 
> I'm definitely coming back to some of these AUs, reworking and not just reposting, so look out for that in a few weeks 😁
> 
> (ANd hey.... if anyone wanted to write for any of the lesser used AUs and tropes.... if you've got a tumblr tag me, comment below, let me know I wanna read it lol 🥺👉👈)


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